


The Light of the Sun

by sqbr



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fanfiction, Getting Together, Minor Character Death, Remix, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 08:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11848209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sqbr/pseuds/sqbr
Summary: As Cassandra heads towards a meeting with the mysterious Divine Victoria, once the assassin Sister Nightingale, she thinks back fondly on her sweet friend Leliana, and wonders how she fared after the war.Written forDragon Age Remix Fest.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Loving the Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3926704) by [RowynSN](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowynSN/pseuds/RowynSN). 



> Thank you to [thespectaclesofthor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thespectaclesofthor/pseuds/thespectaclesofthor) for being a wonderful beta, and to RowynSN for writing such an inspiring story. 
> 
> The moment I read the description for Loving The Moon I knew I had to remix it. The idea of Cassandra and Leliana on opposite sides of a religious war is brilliant, and RowynSN's story is a lovely exploration of it. I decided it would be interesting to explore how this star-crossed romance might play out if they both ended up in major religious/political positions, like in Inquisition, but on opposite sides.
> 
> Note that the flashbacks aren't strictly chronological. I've put some worldbuilding notes at the end of Chapter 3 for those who are interested.

The broad streets and tall buildings, the verdant trees heavy with flowers, even the impossibly wide blue sky. And the smells! Fresh bread, and strange spices, and herbs whose familiar scent made Cassandra's heart twist in bittersweet memory. 

* * *

_What was that smell? It was like pure essence of_ ** _green_** _, and might have been pleasant in a garden, or as a slight undertone to a perfume. But Cassandra felt like she was drowning in it, the sharp scent seemed to be coming from everywhere and made Cassandra's crusted eyes water and her dry throat itch. She moved her hand to wipe her eyes and suddenly the smell was the least of her problems. Everything_ ** _hurt_** _. Her shoulder felt like it had been wrenched from its socket, her chest felt like it had caved in…even crying out in pain caused more agony, her throat was as dry as paper. Was this what dying felt like? She had vague memories of confronting Lucius— had he defeated her then? It would be her own fault for being reckless if he had. She let out a low groan and wished for the relief of unconsciousness._

_"Oh! Oh you poor thing." An unfamiliar voice with a slight accent and then a cup of something cool and bitter held to her lips. It tasted foul, and made her tongue tingle, but by the time the woman had wiped Cassandra's eyes and helped her sit more comfortably the pain had lessened enough for her to take in her surroundings. She was in a bed in a small cottage, and had multiple injuries. Putting her hand carefully to her chest she felt bandages and what felt like a poultice. That would explain the smell. Facing her was a red headed woman wearing a plain dress and a smile._

_Cassandra tried to speak but could only cough. The woman offered Cassandra another drink._

_"I am Leliana. I found you injured in the forest, so brought you to my house." Cassandra blinked at her. Leliana smiled. "To be quite honest, I thought you a lost cause, but you have healed remarkably well. You should be right as rain in a few weeks." She patted Cassandra gently on the arm. "Just lie in bed and I will take care of everything."_

_"A few…!" Cassandra coughed and reached for another drink. Leliana held up the cup and Cassandra tried not to let her hands shake too much as she took it. "I thank you for your help, Leliana, but I must return to my troops immediately. They should not be stationed far from here." The army had been trading blows with the enemy for weeks without significant territory changing hands, there was no reason to think the situation would have altered significantly while Cassandra was out of the fray. She wondered how Jessica was coping with her new responsibility as temporary Commander, and how the Seekers were handling a second change of leadership in as many months. She could almost hear the older veterans' grumpy mutterings about Jessica's youth, they'd been crotchety enough about Cassandra._

_Leliana's face fell. "I am afraid…"_

_Cassandra's cheerful imaginings evaporated. "Tell me they are not all dead!" So many had already died, surely God would not take the few who remained._

_"No! At least, I hope for your sake that they are not! But the Merigny army retreated a week ago. Cybelion controls all the land between here and Metz."_

_Cassandra let out a sound of frustration, unable to muster enough strength to put her feelings into words. For them to have retreated…things must have gone very badly indeed. And now she was trapped in enemy territory, injured and alone._

_"Do not worry! When you are well I will lend you clothes and supplies, and you will return home to your friends." Leliana's attitude was remarkably cheery considering the circumstances. Her optimism was commendable, but Cassandra could not find it in herself to see things in such a sunny light._

_"You will not come with me? Surely you are in as much danger from the Cybelians as I am."_

_"Perhaps I should wipe your eyes again," said Leliana, with a wry smile. Cassandra blinked at her and then noticed the large pendant hanging on her chest. It was a familiar design: a woman with the head of a raven. Cassandra had seen many such pendants, although usually the people wearing them were dead, or soon to become so. Just looking at it made her stomach twist with nausea at it's inherent_ ** _wrongness_** _._

_She was in the house of the enemy._

* * *

It was market day, and Cassandra's progress through the city was slow. It was maddening to have to dawdle when she was finally so close to her journey's end. She clicked her tongue impatiently as the trader in front of her unloaded his caravan, blocking the road. He was Dwerga, if his short stocky figure and the banner proclaiming "Fine Dwerga Crafts! Direct from Dwerg!" was any guide. A sign that times had changed: until recently, the Church of Cybele had considered it impious to openly celebrate any 'pagan ancestry'. But now there were stalls selling Vehn religious figures and Chanter beads in amongst the cabbages and carrots, and no one seemed to care.

For the most part, the people of Clere could be from any city in Merigny: milling pedestrians, commoners and nobles, merchants and soldiers. A little darker, a little taller, but otherwise much the same. And why should that be surprising? Merigny and Cybelion had been part of the same country a few centuries ago. Every now and then she would sense the faint prickle of a distant spell being cast, but that wasn't much different to Merigny either, these days. 

Just as the trader was finally done unloading, Cassandra heard a small, high voice coming from below. 

"Is that your horse? What's its name? Can I pet it?"

Cassandra looked down and saw a small child holding the hand of their mother, staring at Cassandra's horse with eyes wide with awe. She was reminded of her little cousin Hugo. Except that this child was no noble, and likely did not get many chances to directly interact with horses. Also, this child was alive.

"Her name is Chestnut. You may stroke her a little, if you are gentle." Cassandra had bought Chestnut in one of the border towns, and intended to sell her on the way back, but she seemed the sort of staid horse who could handle a little pawing.

The child nodded seriously and reached out to softly place one hand on Chestnut's leg. "She's smooth!" 

The child's mother laughed. "Say thank you, Ange. We should let the nice lady…" She smiled up at Cassandra and then stopped as her eyes hit Cassandra's chest, and noticed the design upon it. She looked at Cassandra more seriously then. Cassandra returned the look with an awkward attempt at a smile. Perhaps she should not have put on her uniform just yet. The mother nodded, but did not smile back. "We should let the nice lady continue her journey."

Ange waved at Cassandra. "Thank you nice lady! Thank you Chestnut! Have a nice journey."

Cassandra waved goodbye. She heard the mother whisper under her breath "Goddess speed you on your way." It sounded more like a ward against evil than a benediction.

* * *

_Leliana had leaned forward in her chair, the motions of her fingers painting an imaginary picture in the air. "Even the streets sparkle in the sunshine, like you are walking on a river of white water. And as day turns to night, the walls of the city reflect the sunset in every shade of orange and pink."_

_Cassandra felt a pang of homesickness for a city she had never visited. It was a testament to Leliana's skill as a storyteller that she could make Cassandra think fondly of the Goddess's own city, where a Chanter like Cassandra would be killed on sight. As to why Cassandra was thinking fondly of Leliana herself after only a few days acquaintance…well. Who would not be grateful for having their life saved, and wounds tended? And Leliana had been a friendly, engaging, and generous host. Remembering what she was, and who she worshipped, still made Cassandra uncomfortable, but mostly because it meant they could never truly be friends._

_"You make Clere sound like a heavenly citadel in the clouds. Are you sure it is not merely the nostalgia of childhood speaking?" The few stories Leliana told of her life after she left Clere tended to be much more cynical._

_Leliana gave a sad smile. "Oh, I remember the awful parts quite clearly. But they do not make for a very pleasant bedtime story."_

_Cassandra forced herself to sit up in bed, despite the pain it caused to her healing wounds. It was worth it to be able to stare down at the shorter woman in the chair opposite her. "I am not a child, Leliana. And I am curious. I know so little of Cybelion. I would like to understand your people as they truly are."_

_"You have set me an impossible task, then," said Leliana. "Can any of us truly understand each other? I can only tell you stories."_

_"Tell me a story, then." Cassandra made herself comfortable again. Despite her injuries, and the instability of her situation, it was not hard to feel at ease in the cosy, quilt covered bed in the corner of Leliana's snug little cottage. It helped knowing that the nearest village— and it's Cybelian citizenry— was a day's journey away._

_"A story of Clere, let me think… Perhaps I should start at the beginning. Do you know how Clere became the Goddess's city?"_

_"I know she was born there, but nothing beyond that." Cassandra knew very little of Cybelianism's centuries long spread that was not Chantry propaganda. And while she found it impossible to imagine why anyone would choose to worship such a vicious upstart of a deity, she had to assume it was not actually the result of pure wickedness._

_"It is not a pretty story, but it is a true one, as far as I know." Leliana's fingers absently rubbed the pendant around her neck. "The Goddess was born a slave, you know. Some say this is why so much of the city burned…"_

 

* * *

The slow pace forced on her by the milling crowd did at least give Cassandra a chance to admire the architecture of the city. Tall buildings of white stone sparkled in the bright sunlight, the smooth pale blocks edged with golden filigree. Even the cobblestones were the same pale stone, though made grey by layers of mud and filth. Not quite as perfect as in Leliana's stories, but beautiful all the same. 

She might have appreciated that beauty more if she hadn't been sent here as a prisoner.

Sorry, no, an _honoured guest_ , invited by Divine Victoria herself, most holy ruler of the Church of Cybele. It had been a very pretty letter, praising Cassandra's history of service and eliding the fact that this service had largely been spent opposing the Church. It _might_ not be a trap. Just because most other Merigny military leaders 'invited' to Cybelion had been sentenced to death for war crimes did not _necessarily_ mean that the same thing would happen to Cassandra. She would have refused to go, but while the Divine had little direct power outside Cybelion, the government of Merigny took her requests _very_ seriously. It had been difficult enough to even gain permission to travel here alone. 

Divine Victoria had acquired much of her bloodthirsty reputation while working for the previous Divine, as the spy known only as Sister Nightingale. Now that she was Divine, Victoria's only real demand from other lands was freedom of worship for followers of Cybele. Few could argue with that, especially since she had pushed just as hard for freedom of worship in Cybelion.

Few, but not none.

There was hardly anyone left alive in Merigny who had not lost family to Cybelian war mages, or in religious purges of occupied towns. Cassandra was no different, and it _hurt_ to see the shattered buildings of her homeland torn down, and Cybelian churches built in their place. The fact that the Church of Cybele was now willing to tolerate those who worshipped other gods did not erase the memories of a time when such "heretics" had been burned at the stake, and Cassandra had some sympathy for those unable to let go of past grievances.

Divine Victoria felt no such sympathy: to attack a worshipper of Cybele was to be punished in kind, and it was known that anyone who plotted against her tended to vanish, regardless of nationality or faith. There were even rumours that as Sister Nightingale she had been responsible for the death of Merigny's previous queen, believing—correctly— that her successor would be more amenable to peace. More shockingly, it was rumoured that Sister Nightingale had assassinated members of her own Church for the same reason. 

What did such a woman want with Cassandra? 

Cassandra was no war criminal: she had certainly killed plenty of Cybelians during the war, but she liked to think that she had not been unnecessarily cruel or bloodthirsty. 

She was no diplomat either, and barely counted as a political leader these days. She was no one, a relic of history. Perhaps it would be fitting, then, if she found her end here on enemy soil. She did not welcome death, but the idea did not fill her with the dread it once had.

* * *

_"Do you truly not hate me?"_

_The subtle tension on Cassandra's scalp lessened. "Hate you? If this is what you think hatred looks like, Cassandra, I find myself wondering what you must expect of your friends."_

_Cassandra felt herself blushing. "Leliana! I am of course grateful for the kindness you have shown me. I could ask no more of anyone." She had never before found such comfort in another's company. It was strange, and a little alarming. "I only meant…I am an enemy soldier. I have killed tens— hundreds, maybe— of your people. How can you not resent me for that?"_

_Leliana's fingers returned to their task, picking metal beads from a plate and gently braiding them into Cassandra's hair. Normally Cassandra hated having her appearance fussed over, but Leliana had been so enthusiastic at the idea that she had been unable to say no. "Did you hate those you killed? Do you hate me, for my beliefs?"_

_"Of course not. I was protecting my people, but so were the soldiers I killed. It is only through the whims of fate that we were born on opposite sides, otherwise we could well have been comrades. And as for you, Leliana…"_ ** _I care for you more than I know how to understand or express_** _. "I do not hate you. While I would prefer your beliefs to be otherwise, I cannot blame for you for them."_

_Leliana finished the braid, pinning it in place and gently smoothing the hair around it with her fingers. For the first time in her life Cassandra wished that she had more hair to have styled. Leliana smiled at Cassandra. "And that is why I like you," she said._

* * *

Cassandra's eyes caught a flash of orange-red on someone's head and she nearly lost her hold on Chestnut. She looked again and it was only a woman in a brightly coloured scarf. She cursed herself for being irrational. Why did she keep expecting to see Leliana around every corner? She had left Clere long before the war, there was no reason to think she would have moved back. And that was assuming she was alive at all.

What if she was dead? What if the last thing Leliana saw before she died was the white starburst of the God's Sword, emblazoned on the chest of one of Cassandra's men? Cassandra had tried to limit civilian casualties, but that had not stopped them from happening. 

But such worries were foolish. Leliana's cottage had been far from any town or village, likely she was living there as happily now as she had before Cassandra had briefly stumbled into her life. She had probably forgotten all about the blunt, awkward soldier she'd looked after, all those years ago. It was just being here, in her old city, that was putting such thoughts into Cassandra's head. She regained her stable footing and rode on.

* * *

The Arch-basilica was like a mountain towering over Clere, the centre around which the city— and all of Cybelianism — revolved. It's sharp, shining towers watched over Cassandra as she made her way through the city, waited as she wound her way through the busy streets. And now she was here, standing at the spiralling golden gates that were likely all that lay between her and her destruction.

A guard took her name, his face showing his disdain for her uniform despite the politeness of his words. She ignored the sense of foreboding that followed the sound of the gates closing behind her. She took strength from the Chant. _Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter._

Cassandra had made many visits to the Grand Chantry in Rentis. The centre of _her_ religion was a cacophony of colours and smells, statues of saints and spirits jostling for space with candles and incense, and always ringing with the sound of music. Cassandra loved the way it overwhelmed her senses in a transcendent hubbub of sensation.

By comparison, the interior of the Arch-basilica was a tomb. The internal walls were more of the same white stone that covered the outside, and nearly as free of decoration. She could smell incense, but only the faintest trace, like a song just out of hearing. As her guide led her down the long corridor from the entrance hall the only sound was their muffled footsteps on the rich black carpet lining the floor. 

The small room she was left to wait in was not quite so austere. There were two soft, comfortable couches, and a prettily carved table placed between them. Shortly after Cassandra entered the room a servant came in and covered the table in trays of food and drink. Cassandra's sense of foreboding lessened a little as she nibbled at a pastry: this did not seem like the kind of treatment the Church meted out to criminals they planned to execute. A moment later she stared at the almond tart in her hand, struck by an awful thought: Was this intended as some sort of subtle mental intimidation? Look, Commander Pentaghast, we even know your favourite sweet! Sister Nightingale had been known to play all sorts of complex mind games with her enemies.

Cassandra snorted at herself for being ridiculous and ate the rest of the tart. It was very good.

As she ate, she looked at the only major decoration in the room: a portrait of a Divine, presumably the Divine Victoria. Most portraits of the Divine were essentially identical, regardless of the Divine in question, with large foreheads to signify wisdom and so forth. This was the first time Cassandra had seen a more realistic depiction. She looked younger than Cassandra had imagined, of an age with Cassandra herself. Perhaps this was just a sign that Cassandra was getting old. It was hard to tell much else about the Divine under the large head dress and heavy robes of her office, but she was paler than most people here in the North, almost as pale as Leliana had been. Cassandra wondered if the Divine, too, had ancestors from the Southern Isles. Cassandra knew very little about Victoria, having never paid much attention to Cybelian politics when it did not directly affect her. Perhaps this had been a mistake.

* * *

_"The Goddess speaks to the Divine, the Divine speaks to the people, the people speak to the king."_

_"Do you really believe that?" Cassandra softened her question with a smile, but she had her doubts about any political system with so few distinctions between nation and church. It was, at least, a nice day to be discussing politics: butterflies flitted through the sunlight and the air was filled with the competing scents of Leliana's garden and the happy clucking of her chickens, with their ridiculous names. It felt to Cassandra like God was all around them, their touch almost palpable in the warm air._

_"Of course!" Leliana smiled back, brightly, and then stabbed at the ground with her spade. "Not that everyone_ ** _listens_** _. I am quite sure that it was not the_ ** _Goddess_** _who told the Church to enslave those with magic, nor do I recall the_ ** _people_** _asking the King for such high taxes." She pulled out the weed her shovel had loosened and threw it onto the growing pile. "Even as a sister I saw so much corruption, so much prejudice…the Church of Cybele must love and welcome everyone, or it is pointless! Sometimes I think we should throw out the whole lot and start again."_

_Leliana did not often speak of her time with the Church, and never in much detail. Cassandra assumed this was to prevent any awkwardness over their differing religious beliefs._

_"I am not surprised you left," said Cassandra, pulling out a weed with a single tug. She was pleased to notice how easy it was, and how little pain she felt. Vanquishing weeds might be a step down from winning battles, but it was more than she'd been capable of a few weeks ago, and after everything Leliana had done for her she liked to be able to help out around the cottage. "You are too much of an idealist. There will always be corruption, and cruelty. We must stay true to our principles, but we must also accept that their expression in reality will always be imperfect. I was often frustrated by the attitudes of the other Seekers, but I would never want to see the Order destroyed. Instead I try to use these frustrations to motivate myself to make things better."_

_Leliana raised an eyebrow. "Cassandra, if I did not know better I would think you were suggesting I return to the Church."_

_"I…" That_ ** _was_** _the natural consequence of her argument, wasn't it? "Not necessarily. You seem happy here."_

_"I am happy here with_ ** _you_** _." Leliana turned her head, strands of white in her copper hair sparkling like silver in the sunlight. "I was not happy before. I…I will not be happy when you leave."_

_Cassandra felt a stab of guilt, and then another stab that her loyalties were so divided._

_Leliana's voice grew low, and less friendly. "You are not as subtle as you think," she said. "I am not angry that you are leaving. You always told me you would. But were you planning on leaving in the middle of the night, without even saying good bye?"_

_Of course Leliana had noticed. She was almost uncannily observant. And now Cassandra had hurt her. "No, Leliana! That is not…"_

_And yet…and yet Cassandra knew with leaden certainty that she probably would do exactly that, in the end. She had to leave, and unless she left without warning she would never have the strength. But not today, not yet._

_Leliana stabbed the ground with such force that the shovel was buried to the hilt and the handle bent. "Then why do you prepare in secret?" She wrenched the shovel upwards with a short jerk, catapulting a wedge of dirt neatly onto the pile of weeds before attacking her next victim. Cassandra hated being responsible for putting Leliana in such a mood. "Why did you try to hide your meeting with that scout- did you think I would report you to the guard?"_

_"Of course not! But…but once I told you I was going to go…I would have to do it." Cassandra felt a wash of shame at her weakness._

_"Oh," said Leliana. She smiled at Cassandra and it almost made things all right. "But then why not stay?" She leaned forward, and put her gloved hands on Cassandra's. "I did not want to ask when I thought you would say no, but Cassandra…you are welcome here for as long as you like. You cannot imagine how lonely I was before you came. But now you are here…I am so happy. I enjoy talking to you, and working with you, even the times we sit together in silence. This war hurts everyone, I know you realise that. Why take part in it? Why not stay here with me?"_

_She was close, so hopeful, so beautiful._ ** _I love her,_** _thought Cassandra._ ** _I love her and we could be together forever. The only thing stopping us is me._**

_How had it come to this? Her family, her friends, her apprentice, practically everyone she had ever cared about was dead. Good people, dedicated to God, cut down for no reason at all. And here was Cassandra, abandoning her post, idling behind enemy lines with a member of the Church. How had this woman become so dear to her heart? Why did being with her make Cassandra feel a happiness she had never known?_

_Pulling her hand away was one of the hardest things Cassandra had ever done._

_"Would you have me break my oath?" she said, her voice cracking. "Become a deserter in the middle of a war? I could not live with myself."_

_"And so you cannot live with me."_

_"I cannot." The idea of breaking her oath felt worse than death. Cassandra's dedication to the Seekers, and to the God they served, had remained undimmed over the many years since her recruitment and initiation. She could no more let go of that dedication than she could stop breathing. She had silenced her internal call to arms by telling herself she needed to heal, but that excuse was becoming increasingly threadbare. Her feelings for Leliana were intoxicating, but they could not overcome the existing hold on her heart. They could only make pursuing her duty unbearable._

_An unhappy silence fell between them._

_Cassandra let herself move slightly closer to Leliana. "If you are not happy here, why do you stay?"_

_"It is too complicated to explain. But I…I did not like the person I was becoming. Living alone is not in my nature, but it is better than the alternative."_

_"But you are happy with only me? You do not wish for a man, or…"_

_"A man!" Leliana laughed sharply. "Are you really so dense?" She glared at Cassandra in frustration. Cassandra was forced to look away. Leliana stood up and brushed the dirt off her skirts. "Perhaps I_ ** _should_** _return to the Church: all those beautiful young initiates, so chaste and virtuous, like fruit waiting to be plucked…"_

_Cassandra felt a heat start in her cheeks and spread outwards. All the initiates of the Church of Cybele were women. She had sometimes suspected…_

_But what did it matter? What did any of it matter if they were going to have to part, and never see each other again?_

_Cassandra felt Leliana's eyes upon her. It would be too cruel to say nothing, yet what could she say?_

_"A woman, then," she said._ ** _I am a woman_** _, she thought. "A woman who can stay with you."_

_"That_ **_would_ ** _be something, wouldn't it? But we should not expect miracles." Leliana walked back into the cottage, leaving Cassandra alone in the dirt._

* * *

There was a knock at the door. Cassandra quickly stood up and wiped down the crumbs that had fallen onto her lap, then straightened her uniform. The uniform of a Seeker didn't mean much to anyone else now, except as a reminder of old wounds, but it meant something to her. And whatever purpose she'd been called here for, she was a representative of Merigny, and had a responsibility to look her best.

First through the door was a priest. A female priest- the only kind, here in the Goddess's Arch-basilica. The young woman nodded her head in greeting and Cassandra returned the gesture. And behind her…behind her stood the Divine.

The priest closed the door, and she and the Divine sat down opposite Cassandra.

"Good afternoon, Commander Pentaghast," said Divine Victoria. 

Cassandra made a sputtering noise.

The priest looked at her with wide, startled eyes. "Are you well, Commander?"

Cassandra forced herself to stop staring at the Divine long enough to croak out a reply. "Quite well, thank you."

"That will be all, Paulette," said the Divine. "The Commander and I are old friends, and would like to speak alone."

Paulette stared at Divine Victoria now, obviously trying to imagine how she could ever have become friends with a Seeker from Merigny. Her hands twitched and Cassandra was reminded of young Seeker initiates, so full of nervous energy but determined to behave properly. "Yes, Most Holy," she said, and bowed low before leaving the room. Victoria stood up and locked the door behind her.

It was like a dream. That was Leliana's face, Leliana's voice but…how could this be? Was it simply some strange coincidence? Some sort of horrible trick?

"I apologise, Most Holy," said Cassandra. "But…are you…I…" How could she even say it?

Leliana…the Divine…the woman tilted her head. "Would this help?" she said, and took off her head dress. A long braid of copper hair spilled down past her shoulders as she shook her head free. There was no mistaking her now. 

"Leliana," breathed Cassandra. She was alive, in front of her, her beauty only increased by the passing of time… It was impossible to think when faced with this vision.

"At last she remembers me," said Leliana. There was a bitter twist to her smile.

"Of course I remember you!" said Cassandra. "But how can you be…are you truly Divine Victoria?" 

"It would be a fine trick if I was not," said Leliana. "Although sometimes I have trouble believing it myself." She rested her hands carefully on her headdress, and gently ran her fingers over the gold feathers adorning the forehead. "Did I not always tell you that someone needed to take control of the Church of Cybele, and make things right? It turned out that person was me." 

As if she had simply woken up one morning and decided to become head of a major religion. As if becoming Divine was not a matter of planning, of politics, of … oh. How could this be? If she was Divine Victoria, then… 

"You were Sister Nightingale," said Cassandra. "You have killed people!"

Sister Nightingale had worked in the shadows, never openly showing herself, but there was no denying the deaths that had followed in her wake. Priests, politicians...maybe even Merigny's Queen. Cassandra had sometimes wondered what it would be like to meet such a woman, to test her skill against the cold merchant of death. But she'd never imagined this.   

"As have you," said Leliana, her voice tight. "And quite a few more than I have, I would imagine."

"…Yes, that is probably so," said Cassandra, thinking of the many lives she had taken over the years, and what she knew of Sister Nightingale's methods. A stiletto did not cut as wide a swathe as a sword. "But…the woman I knew would not have killed _anyone_. What happened to you?" She had always imagined Leliana unchanged by the war, if not slain. That had been foolish, time stops for no one. But for her to have changed so much! 

"The woman you knew…" Leliana laughed bitterly. "The woman you knew already had blood on her hands, even if you could not see it. I am the same person I always was." 

"You…" A hundred memories came together: Leliana's reluctance to discuss her past; her compassion for Cassandra's role in the war; her sly manipulations; her nonchalance towards the dangers of the woods, and the war. Cassandra had thought her shy, empathetic, _naive_. She had been a fool. "I see."

If she was Sister Nightingale…she must have returned to the Church not long after Cassandra returned to the Seekers. But to have risen to be the Divine's Left Hand so quickly, and from there to become Divine…it displayed an immense force of will. Cassandra had always admired Leliana, but she had clearly been underestimating her.

Leliana put a bread roll on a small plate and picked at it with delicate fingers. "For a time I convinced myself that I could be someone else, but we cannot deny our true natures, can we Cassandra?" She looked up, and her eyes were sharp. "Is that not why you left?"

Perhaps she had summoned Cassandra in order to kill her after all. 

"Yes," said Cassandra. "I used to believe that. It is why I left. And now I am a soldier without a war."

"My apologies," said Leliana, as if she was personally responsible. Perhaps she was. At this point, Cassandra would believe her capable of anything.

"I do not wish for war," said Cassandra. "If I must sacrifice my purpose to bring peace to Merigny- to _all_ of us, then that is a price I would willingly pay. That and much more." She sighed. "But… my people do not need me anymore, Leliana. The Seekers no longer even _exist_. The things I left you for…they are gone, and all I am left with is regret. I do not know if I should have stayed, if I even could have, but I am sorry that I left you the way I did. More sorry than I can say."

Leliana smiled, a real smile, the smile Cassandra had dreamed of for all these years. "Then I forgive you."

"Truly?"

"I have done many terrible things for my people's sake. I cannot fault you for sacrificing our friendship for yours." 

_Our friendship_. She made it sound like a living thing, a living thing that Cassandra had let die. And it _was_ dead, wasn't it? It would be ridiculous to expect it to reawaken now.

"I am grateful. You are…as always you are better to me than I deserve."

"Hmm," said Leliana. She looked away, pensive. Cassandra compared the woman in front of her with the painting behind, and did not see much resemblance, even knowing who she was. And there were physical changes, too, between this Leliana and the one Cassandra had known. A little more white in her hair, a few more lines around her eyes…but also a _sharpness_ , an intensity of spirit that had not been there before. Or had Cassandra simply been too oblivious to notice? 

Who was she really, this woman?

"Leliana…Divine Victoria, why did you invite me here?"

"Leliana, please. And is it so hard to imagine that I wanted to see you?" said Leliana, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. 

"Perhaps not."

Leliana sighed. "I thought about contacting you so many times, after the war. I suppose I was afraid you would not like me as I was. As I am." She smiled faintly, her eyes meeting Cassandra's briefly before looking away again. "But you inspired me, you know. I might have stayed in that cottage forever, if you had not come along. There you were, all noble and inspiring, talking of duty, and sacrifice, and not giving up on the world when it disappoints you…" She laughed. "I realise this may horrify you. As Sister Nightingale I did so many terrible things. Things I am sure you would not have done in my place. But you were always a better person than I am."

"Me!" Yet…Leliana _had_ done many terrible things Cassandra would never have done. Horrible, dishonourable things. She had also achieved many great things that Cassandra would never have even thought to dream of. "I do not know which of us is better. Perhaps it does not matter. But you have achieved much that is worthy. I am honoured to have inspired you. And I am glad…very glad to see you so well. Even if this is the last place I expected to see you."

Leliana smiled at Cassandra affectionately and Cassandra smiled back. For a moment it was as if all those years had not passed, and they were friends again. 

Leliana frowned at Cassandra, but it was one of her adorable teasing frowns. Cassandra had missed them nearly as much as her smiles. "But why did you not seek _me_ out," she said. "You had no awkward secret life to conceal. Unless you have managed to hide it, even now, in which case you have my compliments as a spy."

"I have no such excuse," said Cassandra. "I suppose I was afraid. That you still resented me, that you were dead… If I never looked for you, I could imagine you happy in your cottage forever."

"Am I a disappointment, then?" she asked. The saviour of two nations, Most Holy to millions, and she asked if she was _disappointing_. 

"You are a revelation," said Cassandra. "And I hope to get to know you better, as the woman you really are, if you would allow me."

Leliana smiled, and everything was somehow all right with the world. "I would like that very much."


	2. Chapter 2

"You're not wearing your uniform today."

Cassandra looked down at her clothes: her standard travel wear of shirt, breeches, and boots, livened up by a simple vest edged with embroidery. "Are my clothes inappropriate? I was under the impression the tour today was not a formal occasion."

Sister Paulette shook her head and blushed. "No, no! I like it more this way! I was just…sorry. Never mind." She looked away and tapped her hands together nervously. Was Cassandra that intimidating? Surely Paulette must have met much more daunting personages as one of Leliana's assistants. 

It was strange to imagine: Leliana with assistants and underlings, meeting with kings and generals, deciding the fate of nations. 

"I only wear my Seeker uniform when I am on official business," said Cassandra. "Especially in Cybelion, I am sure there are many people for whom it brings back unpleasant memories." It certainly had plenty for Cassandra, though she never felt entirely whole without it.

"Yes," said Paulette emphatically. Ah. She didn't seem old enough to have participated in the war— had something happened to her family? Well, Cassandra would not pry, but she did wonder why Leliana had chosen someone with such bad associations to be her tour guide. 

The two of them continued on their way for a little while, walking along a cobbled path beside one of the larger canals. The canal was lovely, the light reflecting off the dark waters was dappled with shadows from overhanging trees, and the passing barges reminded Cassandra of the ships in the port city where she'd grown up. 

Cassandra had hoped to spend today actually talking to Leliana, instead of on a city tour only _planned_ by her, but the life of the Divine was apparently very busy. Paulette was a competent guide, at least, for all her shyness. She had explained the history of various notable buildings, led Cassandra through some beautiful parks, and let her briefly rest next to the cooling spray of an ornate fountain. She had even pointed out each Chantry as they passed. Cassandra had taken note, it would be good to visit one later and reconnect with her faith, but she had not been cruel enough to ask such a pious young acolyte of Cybele to enter.

* * *

_The wind from across the ocean was cold and smelled of salt, and carried the sound of gulls and commerce from the nearby port. Their uncle's private mooring wasn't a pleasant place to play, but it was better than staying inside the house._

_"I am not going to be the princess again!" growled Cassandra. "I want to be the dragon hunter this time!"_

_"Well_ ** _I_** _can't be the princess," said Anthony, in a patronising tone. He_ ** _always_** _acted like he was the reasonable one, it was infuriating._

_"It's not fair!" Cassandra crossed her arms and glared at him stubbornly. She had more strength of will, despite being the younger sibling, and they both knew it._

_"_ ** _Fine_** _," said Anthony. "We'll compromise. I can be a Seeker, and you can be a mage. You can even be a boy mage, if you want."_

_"I don't want to be a_ ** _boy_** _," said Cassandra. "Boys are stupid. I just want to be something exciting."_

_"Mages are exciting," said Anthony._

_"I suppose. Fine." She had a sneaking suspicion that Anthony had outsmarted her, but at least she didn't have to sit and wait to be rescued again. "I am a lady mage. I am also…the natural daughter of the King of Cybelion! When he was young he fell in love with a beautiful young Chanter woman from Merigny. She raised me in secret to worship God and be Good, but when I was fifteen my magical nature revealed itself."_

_"Right, so you're a mage, good," said Anthony. "And I am a Seeker. Now…"_

_"My mother was a devout Chanter, and knew in her heart that she should hand me to the Seekers," said Cassandra, ignoring him. If she was going to play a mage she was going to do it properly. "But she was weak, and sent me North, instead, to a mage tower. It was cold and awful there, and full of rats, because they never clean." Cassandra didn't know much about Cybelion's mage towers, except that they were wicked. She had a feeling they probably weren't actually cold, but it sounded more dramatic that way. "The other mages were jealous of me, because I knew the Chant, and the power of my faith in God made me the most powerful. Also the…uh…head mage was in love with me! I am loyal to God, but my compassionate nature calls me to protect the tower when…"_

_Anthony made a disgusted noise. "Can we just_ ** _play_** _?"_

_"FINE." Cassandra curled her fingers in front of her, like a witch in a play. "I call upon the dark powers of the Raven Goddess!" Wait, no, she was playing a Good Mage. She added "And the powers of God! As well!" She imagined power building in her chest like a ball of light, and flowing down her arms into her fingers. She could almost feel them tingling with electricity. "Stand back Seeker!" she shouted. "I do not wish to hurt you, but will defend my fellow mages with my life!"_

_"Ha!" said Anthony, pointing his wooden sword towards her. "It is you who should surrender! Your foul magics cannot stand a chance against the power of my Seeker…powers!" He moved his free hand in an attempt at a holy symbol._

_She was going to smite him_ ** _so hard_** _. With lightning! And thunder! "You might be a match for a regular mage, Seeker," cried Cassandra, making her voice as deep and ominous as she could, "but_ ** _I_** _am a_ ** _holy_** _mage! My magic is…"_

_"_ ** _Cassandra and Anthony Pentaghast what do you think you're doing?!_** _" Their latest governess, Messere Canto, was rapidly heading towards them from the house, and she did not look pleased._

_"Nothing!" they said in unison._

_Messere Canto frowned at them. "I heard you! Playing at_ ** _magic_** _, do you_ ** _want_** _the Seekers to come for you? Think of your poor uncle, left all alone!"_

**_He'd probably be glad to have the house to himself_** _, thought Cassandra grumpily._

_"We were only pretending, Messere Canto," said Anthony. He looked at Cassandra with a guilty expression. "They wouldn't really think Cassandra was a mage, would they? Can't they tell?"_

_"Well…maybe they can, and maybe they can't," said Messere Canto. "But you don't want your_ ** _neighbours_** _thinking you've got demon blood, now do you? My…I knew a family, had one of their sons get sent off to the Seekers, and no one ever looked at any of them the same way again. They had to move to a new city!"_

_"What happened to the son?" asked Cassandra._

_"Oh_ ** _he's_** _happy as a lamb," said Messere Cato bitterly. "It's never the_ ** _mages_** _that suffer because of their magic. That's what makes it so wicked. Now come inside, you're both a mess. Look at your hair, Lady Pentaghast, it was all lovely curls this morning and now it's a fright."_

**_If mages are so happy, why is everyone so afraid of being one?_** _thought Cassandra. But she was extra careful to recite her Chant before bed, and she never played at being a mage again._

* * *

The buildings along the canal were punctuated by narrow side streets, peering up them Cassandra could see children playing outside apartments and people hanging laundry from their windows. Though the citizens of this part of the city seemed poor, Cassandra did not notice any beggars. A sign, perhaps, that the Church's charity was more effective than the Chantry's. Paulette stopped their path along the canal when they reached a larger intersection, and pointed up the wide street. "This is the Avenue of the Moon. It was. Um. Built to commemorate the Goddess's capture of the city from the uh…previous rulers." 

The words 'pagan infidels' hung unspoken in the air. "It is very pretty," said Cassandra, because it was. "Ah, and I see it leads to the Arch-basilica. Are we reaching the end of our tour, then?"

Paulette nodded. "But before we go back, Most Holy wanted me to take you to lunch."

"Then perhaps I am underdressed after all." Even when she lived in a humble cottage, Leliana had had fine tastes, always apologising for her limited ingredients and wistfully recalling the tastes of city life. Any eatery that was good enough for Leliana's standards _now_ must be lavish indeed.

"I don't think so?" said Paulette. But that was no guide, a priest's robes were acceptable everywhere.

In the end, Cassandra's worries were unfounded: the restaurant Paulette led her to was not lavish at all, just a simple cafe selling filled crepes. Cassandra laughed: crepes had been her favourite meal back at the cottage. 

"You have told me all about your city, Paulette," said Cassandra, wiping up the remains of the delicious sauce with the last wisps of the delicate crepe, "But I know nothing of you. Were you born in Clere?"

"No," said Paulette. She frowned and looked away. Another delicate subject, perhaps. 

"Something we have in common, then," said Cassandra, and was rewarded with a short laugh. 

"Where were you born?" asked Paulette. 

"In a carriage between Cumont-le-Mort and Brantegest," said Cassandra. "But I grew up in Brantegest."

"And not in a carriage?" asked Paulette, and then burst into giggles. She stopped herself and looked at Cassandra, eyes full of fear under the long fringe of hair framing her round face. 

"No," replied Cassandra, smiling. "Not most of the time, at any rate."

* * *

_"So what was it like?"_

_"Indescribable!"_

_Heike rolled their eyes._

_"Well it was," said Cassandra defensively._

_"Give it your best attempt," said Heike. "Unless you're too good to talk a mage now that you're a real Seeker."_

_"Of course not," said Cassandra. "Heike…I'm sorry the others are so horrible. I hope they were not too unkind to you while I was away." Heike shrugged, which she took as a sign that they had been. The rest of the Order did not treat mages with the respect that they should, and Heike's gender and ethnicity just made it worse, for all that the Chant taught that God cared not for such worldly distinctions. "Well, I can now say for certain that there's nothing inherent to being a Seeker that means you have to be an ass to mages. They're just…asses."_

_Heike laughed. "I can't argue with that."_

_Cassandra leaned back against the hard wooden chair and revelled in the luxury of having a chair at all. She tapped her feet against the stone floor of the courtyard and wondered what the kitchens would be serving for dinner. After months of whatever she could forage, a simple pie would feel like a feast. "As for the Vigil…it was very difficult at first. It took great strength of will to maintain the fasting and meditation, I can see why so many fail. But at some point everything else fell away…for the first time in my life I felt no guilt, or anger, or loneliness, only calm acceptance. I felt like I could continue on that way forever." She didn't feel calm now, she felt like she was buzzing with energy and overflowing with every emotion all at once. She forced herself to be calm and focussed, as she had been taught._

_"You? Cassandra 'I pick fights for breakfast' Pentaghast, were_ ** _calm_** _?"_

_"I know! It was so strange! And then when it ended…it was wonderful. Faith realised. I cannot put it into words.” She could barely remember it, just a blur of chanting and Commander Lambert placing his hands on her head and then light, so much light… She sighed happily. "And now the path ahead of me is clear, all doubt erased."_

_"I'm a little jealous," said Heike. They were a little older than her, so would have done their Vigil too, by now. If they weren't a mage._

_Cassandra put her hand on Heike's shoulder. "You? You do not need a Vigil to show you the right path, Heike. I know you do not follow the Chant, but I am certain that God is in your heart. It is why you came all this way to fight for us, when you could have stayed safe in your tower." Though Heike had little love for their parent's homeland, they still held to their godless Dwerga ways. Cassandra found it hard to understand, especially now that her heart was so full of the truth of God's love. But the Chant taught that there were many ways to God, and she tried to be respectful._

_"I came here to avenge my family," said Heike. "The tower is a prison, guarded by murderers. Those butchers would have killed me like the rest of my family if they hadn't thought I'd be useful. Anyone would want to escape that."_

_"But you could have just run away. Instead you chose to help us."_

_"Run away to where?" said Heike, with a short laugh. "Four foot high mages don't exactly blend in. Back in Dwerg I'd be killed, over in Rentis I'd be conscripted… At least here I can strike a blow against those Cybelian bastards. No one else is standing up to them." They gave Cassandra a gentle poke in the side. "Though you could maybe try a little less hard to convert me. I thought we discussed this."_

_"I am sorry," said Cassandra. "That was not my intention. It is only that I see God_ **_everywhere_ ** _, in all that is good in the world. I have always had faith, but now…it is like my eyes are truly open."_

_Heike smiled. "I'm happy for you." They patted her on the back, like they were reminding themselves that she was definitely there. "And I'm_ **_very_ ** _happy you came back." It seemed they'd missed her too._

_It was strange, being friends with a mage. For years after Anthony's death she'd hated them, been convinced that the corruption within their blood made them all monsters. But looking back, it hadn't been magic that made those men kill her brother, but greed. Plenty of non-mages had killed innocent strangers for money. And many mages were kind, decent people who would never dream of doing such a thing._

_So she didn't hate Heike. She could recognise that they were a good person, and a worthy friend._

_But that just made it harder to know that they were doomed. For any mage, it was only a matter of time before the witchcraft in their blood corrupted their soul. She'd seen it many times already: buildings engulfed in fire, minds cowed into submission, bodies covered in blood. And always, at the centre, a mage;_ ** _I didn't mean it, I couldn't help it, I didn't know_** _. Their best hope was to live a life of quiet piety, reciting the Chant and dedicating themselves to God, in the hopes of keeping the corruption at bay. Some even managed to succeed._

_But Heike…Heike was_ ** _using_** _their magic, applying the spells they'd been forced to learn by the enemy to help the Seekers train. It was an incredible sacrifice, and it would inevitably lead to their doom. It wasn't_ ** _fair_** _, why should…_

_"Cassandra? Are you crying?"_

_She felt her eyes. She_ ** _was_** _crying. She never cried! This was terrible. She made a wordless sound of misery._

_To her horror, Heike laughed. "Cassandra, it's all right. Everyone gets a little strange after their Vigil. You'll get a handle on it, and until then there's no shame in a few tears."_

_"Mmm," she said, unable to trust herself with words._

_"Did you gain any special gifts from your Vigil?" they asked, kindly changing the subject. "Asides from getting even prettier." They winked, and she ignored it, as she did all their flirting. She liked to think they didn't mean anything by it. Relationships between mages and Seekers were strictly forbidden, and for good reason. And as one of the few women in the Order it wasn't as if she lacked for suitors, even if she was yet to find any of them very appealing._

_She surreptitiously wiped her nose and pretended her eyes weren't still wet. "I'm not sure," she said. "I can sense magic, which feels very strange, but is also to be expected. Commander Lambert said any other gifts would reveal themselves in time, and that for now I should concentrate on adjusting to my new senses."_

_"Very well then." Heike put their hand behind their back. "What spell am I casting?" they asked._

_"Light," said Cassandra, flatly. "I can see the glow."_

_They tutted at her. "Do not look with your_ ** _eyes_** _Seeker Pentaghast. You must look with your…"_

_"Excuse me."_

_The monotone voice sucked the life from the air, and killed their conversation dead. Farren stood and patiently waited, the bright red skin of the brand on his forehead making his soft grey eyes seem even more blank. The Tranquil never felt pain or sadness themselves, yet it was hard not to feel it on their behalf whenever they were around. But it was of course a blessing, compared to the suffering their corrupted souls felt once the poison in their blood had taken root. Cassandra tried not to think about what it would be like for Heike when that happened, if they would recognise that their doom was upon them, or whether— like so many mages— they would deny that corruption to the end. Would she have the strength to perform the Rite of Tranquility, if it fell to her to save her friend?_

_"Yes, Farren?" said Cassandra. Some of the other Seekers didn't bother using the Tranquil's names, but they were still people, and Cassandra tried to treat them with respect._

_"Seeker Lucius wishes to speak to you."_

_Seeker Lucius! He was second in command, and, more importantly, in charge of assigning roles within the Order. Was she to be given a posting already? It would be very early, but…the army always needed more Seekers to combat the growing forces of the enemy, and she had excelled at her training. The idea of fulfilling her purpose as a Seeker was intoxicating, and she had to stop herself from jumping up and down._

_"I'm sorry, Heike," she said "I…"_

_"Go!" they said. "Find your destiny."_

* * *

Paulette stopped them in front of a large, forbidding looking gate. Peering through the bars Cassandra could see a thick stone building that was far more solid and utilitarian than most of the delicate buildings along the avenue. As she watched, a young woman in a plain blue robe exited one of the doors and walked quickly across the courtyard to a side building. 

"Um. So this is the Academie des Mystères. The Most Holy said I should show you. But if you, um, would rather not, that's…I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

"Is it a school?" asked Cassandra. It looked more like an army barracks. Or a prison.

"Of a sort," said Paulette. "You see, the Divine believes…"

She was interrupted by a voice calling out something indistinct. A middle aged man in Cybelian robes was striding towards the gate.

"Commander Pentaghast!" he puffed. "So sorry!" He got to the gate, opened it, and bowed. "Brother Leo Fabron, at your service. You are Commander Pentaghast, yes?"

"I am."

"Thank…thank goodness!" Brother Leo leaned against the gate slightly as he caught his breath. "We were told to expect you, but the spell on the gate is…well! You know how it is with student work." He laughed nervously.

"Spell? Is this…" She stared around her. This was no mage's tower, locked on an island and guarded by priests and soldiers. This was an unassuming building in the middle of Clere. It couldn't be.

"You weren't told?" He looked at Paulette in alarm. 

She blushed and looked at her feet. "I was going to tell the Commander, but, um…"

"Ah!" said Brother Leo. "Well then. Uh…Commander Pentaghast! This is the Academie des Mystères, part of a pilot program by the Most Holy Divine Victoria to teach young…well behaved…sensible… um…students to be entirely safe and ethical in the theory and application of…uh…various subjects…relating to…um…"

"Magic," said Cassandra. He flinched. She smiled. "How fascinating. I would love to see your school, Brother Leo."

"Capital!" said Brother Leo, looking like he'd have been much happier if she'd refused and stormed off. Cassandra repressed a sigh.

* * *

Whatever else you might say about the students of the Academie des Mystères, they were definitely proof that not all mages were dangerous. None of the students was over 16, and as promised they were all sensible and well behaved. Cassandra also doubted that any of them had enough magical power to light a match. She had to pretend to be impressed by the proud demonstrations of "advanced" spells even the most untrained of Seeker mages would have considered basic, and been forced to squint to make out the lights moving through the air during the musical demonstration. But they were obviously all trying very hard, so she clapped politely and pretended not to be bored.

Even the teachers were harmless, a mixture of Church observers and barely magical tower castoffs, the sort of "mages" the Seekers hadn't bothered with at all. The only person she'd met in the whole school with any magical ability worth speaking of was the headmaster, Fiona, a tiny woman who could probably level the building with a thought. What must her history be, for her to have been put in charge of such a place? What was she capable of? Had she fought during the war? She was the right age for it.

Cassandra reminded herself that she shouldn't be thinking of mages in terms of threat level in the first place. But old habits died hard.

It was obvious that everyone here saw _her_ as a threat, from the young children trying not to cry when she smiled at them to the fierce headmaster giving off a vibe of protective anger on her charges' behalf. Cassandra wondered what horror stories the mages of Cybelion told each other about Seekers. Having your magic nullified was, from all accounts, deeply unpleasant, even if it was only temporary, and uncomfortably like being made Tranquil. And many Seekers had considered it safer to kill a weakened mage while they had the chance than to follow protocol and allow surrender. Were these blue robed children all waiting for her to do that to them?

Perhaps it didn't matter. It didn't do her any harm for these mages to dislike Seekers, and she was the only Seeker left for them to fear. Still, it hardly encouraged positive international relations. And she didn't like knowing that she was bringing these children so much unhappiness, even if only for a short while.

She turned to Fiona. "Headmaster, would it be acceptable for me to give a speech to your students, while they are all gathered here together?"

"What kind of speech?" said Headmaster Fiona, sharply. "I was not told of this."

"My apologies, the idea only just occurred to me. I just thought it might be a good idea to tell the students a little about myself, to encourage a better understanding…um…between our peoples. If you do not wish…"

Fiona gave a thin smile. "I would _never_ wish to deny the request of a friend of the Divine." 

It was only when she was standing in front of them all, a hundred or so pairs of eyes all pointing towards her, that Cassandra remembered how much she hated giving speeches. But it was too late to back out now.

"Honoured students and teachers of the Academie des Mystères," she said, bowing towards them, "Thank you for your lovely performance, and for allowing me to visit your fine school. As you probably know, my name is Cassandra Pentaghast, and I am a Seeker from Merigny. Seekers are…" How could she explain it? "…we are a little like mages, I suppose. But while your magical gifts have many uses, our gifts have but one purpose: stopping magic that has gone wrong. For example, you have likely learned that it is impossible to put out a magical fire with water or sand, and that you must use a counter-spell or wait for the magic to run it's course. But a Seeker can snuff such a flame with a thought." Wondering if she was making a horrible mistake she gestured to Headmaster Fiona. "If you would assist me in a demonstration, Headmaster?"

Headmaster Fiona stared up at her with the steady eyes of a martyr facing execution. "Of course," she said. "What do you need of me?"

"Please cast a ball of light." She did so. Cassandra felt the magic of the spell calling to her, making her senses tingle. She flicked her wrist, and heard a few muffled titters at Fiona's surprised expression when the light suddenly vanished.

"That didn't hurt," said Fiona, in a wondering tone. She had expected it to hurt? Cassandra should have reassured her…well, it was too late now.

"Of course," said Cassandra. "Cast something else."

Headmaster Fiona's tense body language loosened a little and she smiled. Fiona's hands moved in familiar motions and Cassandra felt her old instincts stirring. She had yet to find somewhere suitable to train in Clere, and her sword hand twitched with muscles in need of release. Fiona would make for a worthy opponent. Cassandra wasn't sure which of them would win, but the fight would be something to see. 

But of course the Headmaster would never endanger her students like that. Instead she encased Cassandra hands in two neat spheres of rock, pressing into her skin with a light but insistent pressure and the familiar tingle of magic. 

"Ha, that is…very clever of you!" said Cassandra. She did not have pleasant associations with this kind of spell. She wanted to smash herself free and grab for her sword, but instead she bit down on her anger and forced out a smile. She recited the Chant in her mind. _Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just._

"You see, students," said Headmaster Fiona, "Like us, Seekers use their hands as part of their abilities. If they cannot use their hands, they cannot use their abilities." Cassandra had not intended this demonstration to be a lesson in how to incapacitate a Seeker, but had to admit it was an effective way to get the students to stop fearing her. She quietly waited for the Headmaster to dissolve her shackles, which she did after a delay not _quite_ long enough to be unambiguously rude. 

"Thank you very much, Commander Pentaghast," said Headmaster Fiona, looking the happiest she had since Cassandra arrived. "That was very educational. Would you be willing to answer some questions?"

She would rather be encased in stone entirely. "Of course."

"I know that Seekers are not born the way mages are: how do you learn your gifts? And is it true that you are the only Seeker left?" 

Ten years ago, such questions would have been the subject of enemy interrogations. But there was no need to hide any of it now. "There is…there was a Vigil we had to perform. It was very difficult and the method was lost when…during the war. And yes, I am the last. Our Order was dissolved, but I remain as administrator of those responsibilities that could not be transferred elsewhere." Which mostly consisted of leading parades and listening to war stories from the few surviving ex-Seekers.

She heard a few sounds of sympathy from the audience and almost laughed at the irony.

"Then we are very lucky to have had a chance to meet you, aren't we students? Does anyone have any other questions for Commander Pentaghast?"

* * *

"Commander Pentaghast, may _I_ ask you a question?"

Cassandra repressed a groan. She'd finally escaped the school and now there were more? But she wouldn't take out her irritation on Paulette. "If you wish."

"Is it true that the Chantry teaches that magic is a corruption?"

A fair question, and one she was glad she hadn't had to answer in front of a large audience.

"It does," said Cassandra. "Which is to say, the _priests_ teach that. The Chant barely mentions magic at all." It was Heike who'd pointed this out to her, though she had taken a while to fully acknowledge it, and the Chantry itself was only just beginning to. And yet Heike had died defending them all, sacrificing their life for a God they didn't believe in and an Order who'd never shown them any respect.

"Then…what do _you_ believe?"

"I believe…that magic is dangerous, certainly. I have seen for myself what happens when a mage is consumed by their magic. But many mages live long, happy lives without ever being so consumed. And they seem as likely to do so in a tower, or as a Vehn shaman, as they are following the Chant. I do not know what God thinks of magic, and I am not sure our priests do either. But I am sure that God loves _mages_ , as he does all of us." She looked at the passing pedestrians, most of them likely Cybelians. Just like Leliana, and Paulette. Yes, God loved them, she was sure. She smiled at Paulette. "Does that answer your question?"

"Yes," said Paulette. "Before we return, Commander, may I show you one final thing?"

* * *

_Cassandra didn't really like children. She didn't blame them for being annoying, and remembered her own childhood too well to be anything but kind to those children circumstances threw in her path. She even felt a little of that irrational protectiveness that seemed to motivate others to become parents._

_But she didn't like being around them. People assumed that she would, she was always being expected to coo over babies and offer to mind other people's offspring. Every time she was told "You'll understand when you have your own" she became more determined to avoid the possibility. As if she had time to take care of another person, when her life was dedicated to the Order._

_And now they'd given her an apprentice._

_"Straighten your back," she said, for the hundredth time. "Widen your feet. Bend your elbows. Move your…"_

_Daniel frowned, lip quivering, as he followed each instruction. He was holding his sword tight, but his hands were shaking. Was he going to cry again? That was always so awkward for both of them. And she didn't want his experience to mirror her own hellish apprenticeship._

_"Stop," she said._ ** _Wait, say something positive_** _. "Good work."_

_He relaxed his stance, but didn't look any happier. "I just stood there. I can't even get the hang of_ **_standing_ ** _."_

_She patted him on the shoulder. "It takes significant work to attain a proper stance, there is no shame in having difficulties." That didn't seem to help much. What would have encouraged her, at his age? "Do you want to try using your sword for a little while?"_

_"You mean spar? With_ ** _you_** _?" She'd actually meant hitting a dummy, but his eyes were shining with an uncharacteristic enthusiasm. It seemed a pity to extinguish it._

_"If you like. But I will not go easy on you, it will be a short fight."_

_"Don't be so sure!" said Daniel, waving his sword dramatically. "I'm pretty good with this thing!" Did he really think he could beat her? A barely trained child?_

_But no, he was grinning, like he'd just told a hilarious joke._

_She laughed and shifted her feet into a fighting stance._

* * *

After her tour of the city Cassandra was left to her own devices for several hours. The Divine would see her at dinner, she was told, but before then perhaps she would like to take advantage of the Arch-basilica's extensive library, or enjoy the gardens?

Unsurprisingly, the library was full of books about Cybele. Cassandra tried skimming through a book of comparative religion, but it was so biased towards Cybele as the One True Deity that she became irritated, and had to put it down. Eventually she settled for A Complete History of The Goddess In Art, which at least had pretty pictures. She had been given a very nice set of rooms in the Arch-basilica's guest wing, and when she became bored of her book sat on her balcony and watched the walls of the city reflect all the colours of twilight.

She spent every minute furious. She fumed all the way to the private room they were to dine in, and sat there seething as she waited for Leliana to finally show up, surrounded by delicious smelling food she couldn't eat. How much effort had the cooks expended, creating this feast for two? There was soup, fish, game, casseroles and vegetables and multiple kinds of sauce…the small table could barely fit them all. 

Did Leliana always eat like this? Or was she trying to impress Cassandra?

The door opened. "Ah, I'm so sorry! Dratted politicians— I know they love the sounds of their own voices, but surely they have their own dinners to go to." 

Cassandra's mind went entirely blank. She'd unthinkingly expected Leliana to be wearing Cybelian robes of some kind, but instead she was in a proper dress, all in purple and silver. A low cut bodice narrowed towards her waist and voluminous skirts flowed over her hips to brush gently against the floor. Her hair, so long now, was braided up around her head, and long tendrils flowed over one shoulder in loose waves. Once again Cassandra felt underdressed, though she had changed into her nicest outfit. 

"You look lovely," she said. 

"Ah, thank you!" said Leliana, sitting herself opposite Cassandra at the table. "I never get to wear anything _fun_ any more, everyone expects me to be chaste and sensible. So I thought tonight I would make myself beautiful, just for you."

"You have succeeded." 

Leliana blushed and played with her cutlery. Cassandra reminded herself that Cybelian priests were sworn to celibacy. Leliana looked across at her. "You also look…well, you always look lovely. Did you enjoy your tour of the city?"

The spell was broken, and Cassandra remembered herself. "No, I did not."

Leliana tilted her head. "No?" Cassandra couldn't tell if she was sincerely confused, or being sly. 

Cassandra stared angrily at Leliana and refused to let herself be charmed. Trust warred with suspicion, the fact that she _felt_ like she knew Leliana just made it more important to keep up her guard. "I cannot decide what angers me more: that you thought I would not see through your ridiculous attempt at manipulation, that you thought it was necessary, or that you were willing to use _children_."

Leliana did not reply, she just watched Cassandra with those unreadable blue eyes.

Cassandra's hands formed into fists. "What did you expect to happen? I would meet the innocent mage children and my cold Seeker heart would melt? _Leliana was right,_ I would say. _Mages are people after all!_ Do you truly think me so prejudiced? And if I was, do you think I would be so easily changed?"

"Perhaps I simply thought you would find the school interesting. Many of our foreign guests have visited it."

"And do all of those guests have their tour given by an _ex-Tranquil mage_?" When Paulette had revealed the scarred, half healed skin on her forehead, Cassandra had almost cried out in shock. She'd heard stories of a cure for Tranquility, but had not really believed it. And for someone to have made sweet, harmless Paulette Tranquil in the first place…it had all been a horrible reminder of all the guilt and doubt that had plagued Cassandra for so many years. 

Cassandra had always told herself that the Rite was a necessary evil, despite the arguments from people like Leliana that it was a needless waste. Yet…Paulette did not look back on Tranquility as a relief, or a blessing. It had been a curse, a total erasure of self. She did not describe her feelings in depth, but the pain in her eyes was unmistakable. And she had been so afraid, so careful to reassure Cassandra that her magic was very weak, that she had only been made Tranquil by an overzealous Seeker during the occupation of her village in the war.

Cassandra had been responsible for so many mages being made Tranquil. She had always avoided the Rite of Tranquility unless the situation was dire, but had she been wrong to perform it at all? Did she now have a chance to make things right? 

Leliana's eyebrows rose a little. "She told you then? I was not sure she would. You should feel honoured, Paulette does not trust many with that knowledge."

"And you repaid her trust in you by making her give a tour to a _Seeker_. My God, Leliana, for all the things you have done, I did not think you so cruel." That poor girl, no wonder she had been happy when Cassandra wore something other than her uniform. Cassandra leaned forward in her chair, wanting Leliana to _see_. 

Leliana stayed entirely still, calm and unmoved. It felt like there was a veil between them, like Leliana had encased herself with ice. Or was she ice all the way down? "You underestimate Paulette. She has met far more unpleasant people than you in the course of her work." She smiled gently. "In fact she told me she liked you a great deal."

_Do not be charmed_. "It is not a matter of liking or not liking," said Cassandra. "And I notice you do not deny that you were attempting to manipulate me."

"Because I _was_ manipulating you," said Leliana, without a trace of shame. "Although not in the way you think. Of course I know you think mages are people, Cassandra. If I thought you did not, I would not have ever wished to be friends with you."

"Then what _is_ your aim?"

"Telling you would rather defeat the purpose of manipulating you," said Leliana, smiling.

_I want the old Leliana back,_ thought Cassandra morosely. _The one whose smile was not full of knives_. But the knives had always been there, under the surface. Had Leliana thought Cassandra stupid, back then, to have been so easily fooled? She grunted in frustration. 

"Eat some soup," said Leliana gesturing towards a tureen. "You'll like it."

Cassandra stood up, pushing back her chair and causing one of the many forks arrayed in front of her to fall to the floor. "This is pointless," she said. "Am I to sit here and be condescended to all night? Is this some sort of punishment? What do you want of me, Leliana?"

"Tch," said Leliana. For the first time since she'd arrived, she wasn't smiling even a little.

"Well?" said Cassandra.

"I want you to sit down. I want to us to have dinner, and talk as friends."

Cassandra leaned on the back of her chair. "We cannot be friends if you are not honest with me."

"Can we not? Were we not friends, before?" 

"Of course we were. But…Leliana, I do not know how much of it was real. How much of _you_ was real. And I will _never_ know unless you are honest with me! Is that such an impossible thing to ask?"

"Yes," said Leliana, in a small voice. And then she put her head in her hands.

"Leliana…" But it was true. She could not be friends with her if there were lies between them. It was better for them both to establish that now, than to keep pretending.

Leliana sighed and peered up at Cassandra over the tips of her fingers. "Honesty does not come naturally to me, you know. But I will answer your questions," she said. "If you eat first. And not about what happened today, not yet."

"But we will speak of it eventually?"

"Yes," said Leliana. 

Cassandra sat, and served herself some soup. It _was_ delicious, and gave her time to think.

She had spent the last ten years thinking of things she wanted to say to Leliana, had just caused a commotion demanding the truth, and now that she had the opportunity her mind was blank. Eventually she put down her spoon and sighed. "My difficulty is that I do not know where to begin. There is so much about you that I do not know. I do not even know if the things I _think_ I know are true!"

"I have never lied to you," said Leliana, in a serious tone, and despite everything, Cassandra believed her. "I was born in Clere. Mother died when I was very young. When I was grown, I trained to become a priest. All of that is true." She gave a small, impish smile. "I merely omitted a few details."

"A few!"

"You did the same! You never told me you were a _princess_!"

Cassandra groaned. "Only technically. My family has not held power in generations. And surely you have met many princesses by now."

"A few," said Leliana. "But you—well. Never mind." She closed her eyes and frowned. "What you do not know of me… I am illegitimate, and Father died— or left— when I was very young. Mother did not speak of him often, but I have long suspected that he was Vehn."

"That makes sense," said Cassandra. Leliana raised her eyebrows. "Because you are so short," she explained.

"Only to a giant like you," said Leliana. But she seemed happy to have been able to share a secret, and have Cassandra accept it. Cassandra felt a little like she had passed a test. Which was still a little manipulative, but perhaps she could accept that, too. As long as Leliana was trying to be honest with her, as much as she was able. 

Leliana looked her in the eye. "You have probably heard that I trained as a bard." 

Cassandra nodded. It was one of the few things all stories of Sister Nightingale agreed upon. And Cassandra could easily imagine it: Leliana was charming, brilliant, and, it turned out, entirely ruthless when she needed to be. How would Cassandra have reacted, if Leliana had told her the truth all those years ago? Would she have accepted it? Or would she have mistrusted her, as an enemy spy? 

"I enjoyed that life, it was exciting, a challenge." Leliana's voice was gentle, reminiscent. "I had a mentor, a friend…Marjolaine. She taught me the bardic arts— to enchant with words and song, to carry myself like a high-born lady, to blend in as a servant…" Leliana's voice grew thick. "I trusted her, and…" She closed her eyes, and took in a shuddering breath. She was clearly distressed.

"You do not need to tell me everything," said Cassandra. "Do not pain yourself, please."

Leliana nodded, and caught her breath. "Perhaps another time I will tell you the full story. But…suffice to say, I was forced to flee Clere."

"That must have been difficult." No wonder Leliana had always spoken of leaving the city with such melancholy, and looked back on her time there with regret. Cassandra was slowly forming a picture of Leliana that combined all the seemingly contradictory parts of her history. 

"It was, at first. None of the cities were safe for me. I took shelter in a village church, far from everything I knew. It was there that I found peace in the Goddess, and began my training as a priest. That part I have told you about already." She had, but her anecdotes gained a different slant now that Cassandra knew how Leliana had come to that life. "It was through my training that I met Mother Dorothea." Leliana paused, as if waiting for Cassandra to react.

"I'm sorry," said Cassandra. "That name rings a bell, but…"

"You may know her better as Divine Justinia."

The previous Divine, who had made Leliana her Left Hand and helped oversee the end of the war. Yes, Cassandra knew _that_ name _very_ well. "You knew her even then?"

"I did. She told me that my past was not shameful, that the Goddess had a purpose for me. I worked for her as a scout… a spy. I thought I had found my purpose. But then…Marjolaine found me. Tried to kill me, again, and murdered one of my contacts in the process. I was so enraged I…" Leliana frowned. "I thought I had become a better person. Someone decent, and merciful. But the way I— I killed Marjolaine, the joy I felt hunting down her guards one by one…there was nothing but hatred in my heart, and a love of cruelty. I was horrified at myself, at what I thought I might be becoming…so I ran away. I hid myself away from Dorothea, from the Goddess, from the war…I pretended to myself that I was a good, simple woman, but I could only do that if I kept entirely to myself."

Such a contrast to the innocent priest Cassandra had thought Leliana to be. Yet she had been still been lonely, and in need of a friend. "And then you met me."

"And then I met you." It was Leliana's turn to busy herself with food, now. She ate daintily, like a bird. Eventually she put down her cutlery. "After you left I was…angry. Angry, but also…ashamed. You reminded me that ignoring our responsibilities to others does not make them go away." It was strange to know that Cassandra leaving had not solely caused pain. "So I returned to Mother Dorothea, and was by her side when she became Divine. You…have probably heard a little of what I did during that time."

"Yes," said Cassandra. Leliana looked melancholy, perhaps ashamed of the things she had done as Sister Nightingale. Or perhaps she was worrying that Cassandra would judge her. Cassandra smiled. "I am sure, however, that much of what I have heard is invention. You are a remarkable woman, Leliana, but even you cannot engineer an earthquake." 

Leliana laughed. "True, but it is convenient if people believe that I might." Cassandra wondered how many of the outlandish stories told about Sister Nightingale had had their origin in Leliana's imagination.

"Your reputation is very fierce. I must admit…when you sent for me, I thought I was being summoned to my execution."

Leliana's eyes widened. "Then why did you come?"

Cassandra shrugged. "It seemed necessary. I am glad to have been proven wrong."

"Oh dear," said Leliana, with a pained laugh. "My apologies for worrying you so!" 

"It is my own fault for letting my imagination run away with me." But Sister Nightingale's reputation was not entirely fabrication. And while Cassandra understood that spies had to follow their own sort of morality, there was a line. Cassandra looked Leliana in the eye. "Leliana…Did you kill Queen Amalia?"

"Ah, now we come to it," said Leliana. "If I had, would you tell the people? Risk this fragile peace for the sake of a woman nobody liked?"

"No," said Cassandra. "You are right, it would do no good to bring it all out into the open now. I am not so wedded to honesty that I cannot see the value of discretion. But I want to know the truth." Would Cassandra be able to forgive her, if she _had_ killed Merigny's Queen? Queen Amalia had hardly been a good ruler, but Cassandra had been loyal to her all the same.

Leliana's lips went thin. "No," she said. "I did not kill her. But I know who did." She tilted her head. "Do you want me to tell you?"

If it was not the Church of Cybele…the person who had benefited the most from Queen Amalia's death had been her daughter, Queen Tessa, current ruler of Merigny. "…No," said Cassandra. "Do not tell me. But thank you."

Leliana nodded. "Is there anything else you want to know? Perhaps you wish to ask if I am responsible for the 'accident' in Criquemur? It was _very_ convenient for me, after all. "

"Of course not! Leliana— I never met Divine Justinia, but she was from all accounts an honourable woman. I now know that she was also your friend. You would not assassinate her, and so many others, merely for _ambition_. I do not need to ask to be sure of that."

Leliana smiled. "I am glad to hear that you have such faith in me, even now. Not many do." Her smile became bittersweet. 

It seemed that Leliana's reputation had its consequences. Did she have anyone who truly knew her? "I am sorry to have interrogated you so," said Cassandra. "Is there anything you want to know of me?"

Leliana shook her head. "No. Not that I feel brave enough to ask just yet."

Cassandra nodded. "I am here, should you change your mind."

After that, they shared an unspoken agreement to speak of lighter things. Leliana told amusing stories and Cassandra spoke of the books she had been reading. The food and conversation was copious and enjoyable. As the meal began to wind down, Cassandra decided it was time, again, to discuss something a little more serious.

"Your Academie is a remarkable achievement," she said. "Are there others like it?"

"Not yet. But there will be." Leliana grinned. "When I am done there won't be a tower left standing."

"That seems a little dramatic. Don't many of the mages _like_ living in the towers?" 

Leliana's lip curled. "Ha! Have you asked them?"

"As a matter of fact, I have," said Cassandra. "I was part of a committee investigating possible approaches to Merigny's mage population, now that the Seekers are no more. We visited several towers in southern Cybelion, as well as a Vehn settlement and a barracks in Restis. And yes, the towers are imperfect, but they are these people's homes. Many of them have known no other." 

"All the more reason to free them."

"If you force someone to be free, is it really freedom?"

Leliana rolled her eyes. "Very well, the mages who wish to stay may stay. And those who wish to leave may leave. I suspect there will be rather more of the latter."

"Most likely, yes." Cassandra had gone to Cybelion hoping that the horror stories she'd heard about the towers were all lies, that they might offer a way for the mages of Merigny to find a use for their magic without putting the rest of the populace in danger. But they were exactly the prisons she'd been told they were, the mages treated as nothing more than tools be be wielded on behalf of the Church and state. Like prisoners everywhere, the tower mages managed to eke out some happiness in the margins of their proscribed existence, but she was not convinced that they were any happier than their counterparts in the Chantry.

Leliana smiled. "I am glad we can agree on something." 

"We agree on many things," said Cassandra. "There are countless ways in which I wish the Chantry's leadership would follow your example."

Leliana leaned forward, with a glint in her eye. "You should make them."

As if she had not already tried. "How? I have no say in Chantry affairs." 

"The Seekers are part of the Chantry, are they not? Why not bring change from the inside, as I have? You are devout, a good leader…the Chantry could use someone like you."

"A good leader of _soldiers_ , perhaps." She tried to imagine herself as a priest, dedicating herself to a life of piety and reflection. The idea was absurd. She shook her head. "I am ill-suited to religious life. It is bad enough being a diplomat. I spend so much time biting my tongue it is a wonder I have not severed it."

"You seem to be doing well to me," said Leliana, smiling. "Your demonstration at the Academie was a stroke of genius."

Cassandra snorted. "I spent the entire time wanting to stab something. If I can be useful, put me to work, but no more diplomacy, I beg of you."

"You are not here to work, Cassandra," said Leliana. She took Cassandra's empty plate and prepared her another, piled with fruit and cheese. 

Cassandra took the plate from Leliana and put it beside her. She would eat from it later, if she could find the room. "My apologies, Leliana, I do not mean to be ungrateful. But if I do not have a way to be useful, I…" She stopped, struck by a thought.

"Cassandra?"

_I only wanted to be useful_. That is how Paulette had described being Tranquil. It didn't sound so bad, until you realised that that was _all_ she had wanted, all she had been _capable_ of wanting.

"May I ask you another question?"

"Of course."

"What is the cure for Tranquility? Does it work for all mages? What are the side effects?"

"That is more than one question," said Leliana, laughing. "But it is a spell. I think. To be honest I do not entirely understand it, I know little of magic. But yes, as far as we can tell, it works for any mage who has been made Tranquil." 

Cassandra was not sure exactly how the Church made mages Tranquil without access to Seekers. She understood it to be some sort of spell. But the effect was much the same, and she had encountered many Tranquil mages during her tour of the towers. Church and Chantry were equally complacent about using the Rite.

"That is wonderful," said Cassandra. "But I assume there is some drawback, or it would be more widely available."

"Yes." Leliana sighed. "The drawback is that a cured mage regains their emotions too _much_ , and can have trouble controlling them. Considering that it was the most volatile and powerful mages who tended to be made Tranquil…this does not always end well. Paulette was cured using our most refined technique, and even she has some trouble."

"Do you think I could help? I am not a mage, but I know how to perform the Rite of Tranquility, if the cure is somehow related…" 

"I can show you what we have learned tomorrow," said Leliana, her tone oddly melancholy. "And we will see."

* * *

_The Seekers had existed for over four hundred years. They had survived wars and famine, the rise of Cybelianism, even their own leader trying to annihilate them._

_And now they were to be destroyed by a bureaucrat's pen._

_The pesky little paper pusher gave Cassandra an insincere look of apology. "I am sorry, Lady Pentaghast. But the Seekers are no longer politically viable."_

_"Politically viable? You're giving in to the mages' demands_ **_now_ ** _?" Cassandra had spent the last six months trying to broker a truce with the mage rebellion. Every time she'd suggested a way to placate the mages, from the right to own property to the opportunity to marry, the Chantry and government leaders had knocked it back._

_"We are not_ ** _giving in_** _," said the chancellor, her expression sour. "We are_ ** _compromising_** _. You Seekers had your chance to control the mage problem, and you failed. Now the Chantry is going to clean up your mess. Public opinion has shifted, and if we don't do something to look like we care about mage rights we might end up with a full scale revolution on our hands. Peasants, mages, the Vehn…they're all agitating for change. We need to nip this in the bud."_

_"And the Seekers are an acceptable loss."_

_"The Seekers are_ ** _already dead_** _. There are, what, ten of you left? With no way to recruit more? That's not an Order, it's a_ ** _club_** _. A club for killing mages, which doesn't exactly help our case with the rebellion. Or the Cybelians, for that matter."_

_"The Seekers stand for more than that! And you_ ** _need_** _us. We are in the_ ** _constitution_** _." The Seekers theoretically belonged to all people of the Chant, but they had been a central part of Merigny since the country's creation._

_"We need your_ ** _skills_** _, and we will still have them. The other former Seekers will be given positions in the armies of their homelands, to deal with magical situations as necessary."_

_That was not as bad as she'd feared. But… "The others? What of me?"_

_The chancellor shrugged. "As you say, the Order is in the constitution. So you will remain Commander of the Seekers. There just won't be any other Seekers to command."_

* * *

Leliana led Cassandra deep within the bowels of the Arch-basilica, to a catacomb locked behind many ancient doors. The end of their journey was a room filled with relics, from gold statues to dusty scrolls, the walls lined with locked cabinets and chests which promised to contain even more wonders.

"The Church of Cybele has many secrets, you know," said Leliana. "Things known only to the Divine, and certain members of her inner circle. I had thought I learned them all when I became Justinia's Left Hand, but there were some things she kept even from me. She chose me as her successor, she must have known I would find out eventually…but for whatever reason, she kept what I am about to show you to herself."

"If it is so secret, am I allowed to know it?" said Cassandra. "I wish for the truth, Leliana, but would not want you to betray your position."

"You are the one person in the world most qualified to know." She went to a cabinet, and unlocked it, then paused with her hand on the key. "Did you ever hear what happened to your old commander, Lucius?" 

"No, after he poisoned the others I pursued him, and we fought….but he had gone mad. He said we were all abominations, that God wanted him to kill us. I know he fled to Cybelion after that, but…I suppose I hoped he died."

"He did. He…he killed himself. But he left behind something that belongs to you."

"To me?"

Leliana looked at her with an expression of great sorrow. "Cassandra, you asked me to be honest with you. But there are things…things I am not sure you are ready to hear. I do not wish to harm you."

"Leliana," said Cassandra, "I am forty one years old. If I am not ready now, I will never be." What did all this have to do with the cure for Tranquility? Was there some further horror that Leliana wished to protect her from? Whatever it was, Cassandra was willing to face it.

And then Leliana took out the contents of the cabinet. It was a huge, ancient book, bound with leather and marked in several places with thick red ribbons. On the front was embossed the Sword of Sadusel.

The Book of Secrets.

Passed down from Seeker Commander to Seeker Commander over the centuries, its loss had led to the Order's end. Cassandra put the book on the table in the centre of the room and flipped through it carefully. The first few pages laid out the purpose of the Order, the rules and structure settled upon by the Chantry four hundred years ago, when it was decided that something must be done to curb the dangers of magic. Later chapters had been added more recently, as various Commanders had recorded important history or changes to the lore, or offered advice for the Commanders who would come after them. Past a certain point it was blank, yellowed pages waiting to record a future for the Order that might never come.

"It was _here_ , all along? How long have you known?"

"Since I became Divine." Three years!

"And you kept it secret? Why? It is too late to induct new Seekers now, but there is so much history, so much …What right did you have?"

Leliana's voice spoke softly. "None at all." 

"I will not ask if you have read it, that would be an insult to us both. But I—"

"Wait. There is something I want to show you." Leliana gently moved Cassandra's hand out of the way and opened the book to a marked page, near the front. 

And there it was. _The Rite of Reversal of Suppressed Ability_. Cassandra read through the description, unable to believe her eyes. It was so simple, almost the Rite of Tranquility in reverse. And this was no recent addition: it was right at the start, in amongst the by-laws and statement of intent. Her anger at Leliana evaporated. "The Seekers…the Commander of the Seekers knew how to reverse Tranquility and hid it? They have known since the beginning?" 

Leliana nodded.

"But that is terrible! There have always been mages like Paulette, made Tranquil when they should not have been. We were told it was an unfortunate tragedy, that nothing could be done…but it was a lie!"

"Yes. The Seekers hid it from you, from everyone. And then Justinia hid it from me. I knew that she did not feel as strongly about Tranquility as I do, but…I understand your sense of betrayal."

Yes, Leliana had looked up to Justinia as much as Cassandra had to Lucius. Maybe more. But now they both had to find their own way. Cassandra put her hands firmly on the table, her voice sure. "We have the cure now. We can fix the mistakes made by the Seekers, and by the Church." There were so many they could help. Cassandra felt her heart race with a sense of purpose she had not felt in years. 

"I hope so," said Leliana, smiling. "I am glad you see things the same way as I do. It is good to have an ally."

"Of course! What do you need of me?" She skimmed over the Rite again, thinking about what it would be like to cast. "Can you explain how your new cure differs from the one written here?"

"Me? No. But I have an advisor who explains all this magic business to me, or tries to. _She_ is the one you want to talk to. I will set up a meeting."

"Thank you, I look forward to it." Cassandra flipped through the book a little further, stopping for a moment to peruse a hundred year old guide to swordsmanship that reminded her of her youth. But she would have time to read this all later. She closed the book. "Thank you for giving this to me, Leliana, even if I do not understand why you waited. Why did you think I needed protecting from the truth? It is horrifying, yes, but what is done is done. And now that I know, I am in a position to make things better."

Leliana's face fell. "This is not what I was protecting you from. There is something else." She sighed and put her hand on the book. "You should sit down before you read it."

Cassandra sat down on an old, ornate chair. Leliana opened the book to another marked page, also from the older part of the book.

It was a chapter entitled _Instructions for the Vigil_.

A lot of it was familiar: the tests for fitness before the Vigil began, the instructions for fasting and prayer to be given to the applicant. There were references to testing "inherent abilities" that she did not understand, but otherwise it was exactly what she would have expected.

Then she reached the Night of Trials, the point near the end of the Vigil where the Commander of the Seekers visited the applicant and made sure they were still worthy of the Order. Cassandra could still remember the intense anxiety she'd felt leading up to the trials, and the calm certainty she'd felt after passing them.

_ The Commander is to test the applicant's inherent abilities, as before. If the applicant fails, they are to be removed from the Order. If they pass, the Commander should suppress the applicant's abilities. _

"Suppress the applicant's abilities…does that mean The Rite of Tranquility? This cannot be right."

Leliana did not reply.

Cassandra kept reading. More rules, more instructions for prayer and fasting. More references to "inherent abilities". And then, instructions for the end of the Vigil.

_ Perform the Rite of Reversal of Suppressed Ability, with the applicant reciting these adapted verses of the Chant: _

_Blessed are they who stand before_  
_The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter._  
_Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just._  
_Blessed are the pure of heart_  
_Whose faith in God does not waver._  
_Blessed are the Seekers, the protectors of the innocent._

The verses were from the Canticle of Benedictions, but with extra lines about loyalty to the Seekers, and unquestioning devotion to God. Reading them made Cassandra's heart ring like a bell. This was truth and purpose. But the context in which they were written felt disturbing and strange.

"This looks like the Rite of Tranquility…but it can't be. Mages are not permitted to join the Order. And we're certainly not _Tranquil_." 

"What happens if the Rite of Tranquility is performed on a non-mage?"

"They die! I am…yes I am sure of it. It happened sometimes, a Seeker would make mistake and attempt to perform the rite on someone who was only addled, or the victim of gossip. They _always_ died." 

"But you are not dead."

"No, I am…Leliana, _no_ , you cannot be saying what I think you are saying." Leliana put her hand on hers, as if to comfort her. "I cannot perform magic! The idea is…is _absurd_."

Leliana's expression was serious, and sad. "Is it so unthinkable? Mages are not so different from other people."

"But they are! Mages _always_ lose control of their magic, even if only in little ways. That is why they are dangerous! That is why…." She put her hand on her mouth. "That is why they perform the Chant. The same Chant that Seekers perform to train for the Vigil." She moved her hand a few inches in front of her eyes and stared at it, almost waiting it for to produce lightning or flame. "But…surely I would have noticed if I was a mage. Surely _someone_ would have—" But they had, hadn't they? All those tests of 'intuition', all the times strange experiences were explained as the Power of Faith. And if an initiate was _too_ strange, if their behaviour was a little _too_ reminiscent of the mages they were training to control, why then— yes, they were a mage after all, and were sent to go serve the Chantry in a different way. 

"I am sorry," said Leliana. "I did not believe it myself at first, and I know it must be a horrible shock. But Cassandra, there is no shame in having been a mage. You are same good, honourable woman you have always been." 

"I— I _was_ a mage? I am one no longer? I _know_ I am not Tranquil." The intense anxiety she was feeling right now was proof enough of that. She read the passage again, and the ones that followed it. They described a far more complex version of the Rite of Reversal, once which emphasised the mental state the Tranquil mage must be in, and the subtle manipulations that must be done to their magic as it returned. "My inherent abilities, my _magic_ , was transformed? Into…my gifts as a Seeker?"

Leliana nodded. "Yes, that is how my advisor explained it me."

Cassandra pulled back in horror. "Your advisor has read this? How many people know, Leliana?"

"Just the three of us. Don't worry, she is very trustworthy, and good at keeping secrets. It is up to you who finds out next. I am sorry I did not tell you earlier. This is not the sort of thing you put in a letter, and then…I did not know how to tell you."

This was…Seekers were _mages_? _Cassandra_ was a mage? She'd always told herself she respected mages, was not one of those Seekers who could not see their inherent humanity, but yet…the knowledge filled her with shame and horror. Every dreadful thing she'd ever heard or thought about magic filled her mind at once. Her blood was tainted, her soul corrupted with sin. She was doomed, dangerous, a pox upon the world.

Some part of her was convinced it must all be some awful trick. How could the Order created to control mages be _filled_ with them?

She read over the chapter again more carefully, trying to find some way to make sense of it all.

"And I was…wait." She read through it again, and thought very hard about what she had experienced, what the Vigil was trying to do. "Does this mean…my _mind_ was changed?" This was why she had been instructed to recite the adapted version of the Chant: to make her into the perfect Seeker, to channel her newly intense emotions into devotion and faith. She felt as if the floor was falling away beneath her, as if reality itself was losing its shape. Everything she thought she knew about herself was a lie.

The Order had perverted the Chant, made it into a method of manipulation and control. The thought filled Cassandra with disgust and self-doubt: how much of her faith in the Chant was the result of the Vigil? She had been raised to believe in God, but would she believe so intensely now if her mind had not been tampered with? Was the certainty that drove her faith, or conditioning? 

Leliana was much slower to reply, this time. "I think so," she said sadly. "But I am sure if you were _very_ different people would notice the difference. You are still the same person, Cassandra."

"You cannot know how much I have been changed," said Cassandra. "Everyone who knew me before my Vigil is dead." She had few friends, no family, all that was left to her was her duty, and now even that was tainted.

"Cassandra…" Leliana put her hand on Cassandra's shoulder. "I know the woman you are now. If anyone has the ability to think for themselves it is you." The touch offered some comfort, but Cassandra also wanted to throw it off, to push everyone away, to destroy something. She took a grim satisfaction from the knowledge that her difficult, irritable disposition predated the Seekers. This emotion, at least, was hers.

"People did notice a change," she said. "We joked about it, how much more serious and pious everyone became after their Vigil. How much more _passionate_." 

"I am so sorry," said Leliana. "What they did to you was wrong."

"We did it to each other. Mages controlling mages…No wonder Lucius reacted the way he did. He hated magic more than anyone. I thought him mad, but I can see, now, why he thought it was necessary to kill us all." What would Cassandra have done, if she had found out while the Seekers still existed?

Leliana looked concerned.

"Do not worry," said Cassandra. "I am not going to kill myself. Lucius was a close-minded fool. But…I will need to be alone for a while."

"Of course." Leliana squeezed her shoulder once more, then let her go.

* * *

_Every time she felt herself faltering she remembered Daniel's face. He'd been so happy to see her, the one living soul in a barracks full of corpses. And she'd been able to offer him nothing, no relief from the poison in his blood but the promise of vengeance, and a quick death._

_Brambles tore at her legs, and she had to hack at the bushes with her sword. Lucius was leading her into the forest. He couldn't be far ahead, she could hear him crashing through the undergrowth, but she was already wounded from an earlier fight with the Cybelian foe, and her body kept telling her to stop._

_It was probably a trap. The knowledge felt distant, irrelevant. She crushed the thorns under her boots and kept going._

_She found him in a clearing, facing her with his sword ready and a smug expression on his face. Definitely a trap, then. If he killed her here, would he go after the others next? Was that why he'd followed them to the battlefield, to finish what he'd started?_

_"Lucius," she said, voice dripping with scorn. He didn't deserve a title any more._

_He smiled and acknowledged her with a nod. "Commander Cassandra."_

_"Before I kill you," she said, trying not to let her hand shake as she pointed her sword towards his smirking face, "Just tell me why."_

_"We Seekers are abominations, Cassandra," he said. "The corruption is in our blood. The Order must be destroyed, there was no other way."_

_She felt an empty sense of disappointment. There could be no excuse for what he had done, but this was all nonsense. "How could you?"_

_"I don't want to kill you," he said, when he had already killed so many others. "Join me, Cassandra. It is God's will!"_

_She cried out in frustration, and attacked._

_Under any other circumstances, she would have won. She was younger, stronger, and a better fighter. But she'd been at war while he'd been hiding away like a rat somewhere. Every time she swung her sword she felt the wound in her side tear, and every muscle ached from weeks of battle. She managed to make him bleed, and enjoyed the look of pain on his face every time she wounded him. But she was going to die here. She had abandoned her post, her country, her Order, and for what— the chance to die alone in a forest, instead of with what was left of her men._

_She swung, and missed, and felt a horrible pain in her chest as she barely dodged a blow aimed at her heart. Off balance, she stumbled, and Lucius knocked her down to her knees. She watched his sword, waiting for it to make the final blow, but instead…he dropped it. He put his hands on her head and started_ **_chanting_ ** _._

_Was he trying to perform the Rite of Tranquility? That was bizarre, ghoulish…and pointless, the Rite was known to have no effect on Seekers. He really had gone mad. Had there been warning signs she'd missed? Could she have prevented all this?_

_When he was done, she closed her eyes and let herself fall. Maybe he would believe she was dead._

_Maybe she soon would be._

_The last thing she heard before the world faded to black was the sound of him walking away._

* * *

Cassandra's breakfast came with a gift.

Cassandra was slumped over the desk in her quarters, when it arrived, having stayed up all night reading the Book of Secrets. Nothing had made the nature of her existence any less horrifying. Instead, the pages contained a history of atrocity and corruption, centuries of betrayed promises and corrupted ideals in amongst the Odes to God and instructions on swordplay. An order of people designed to be paragons of faith and dedication, shaped that way by _magic_ , and all it had led to was horror and death.

The maid coughed. "Most Holy has left you…"

"Just leave it," growled Cassandra. The maid bowed quickly and left.

Cassandra forced down a little bread and looked at the gift with only the faintest twinge of curiosity. The small box was delicately wrapped in an iridescent ribbon. What was it: jewellery? Sweets? Did Leliana really think a gift would fix everything? She pulled at the ribbon and opened the box.

Inside was a key.

Looking more closely at her breakfast tray Cassandra realised there was a sealed note to go with the box.

_Dear Cassandra,_

_I am sure you are quite sick of everyone right at this moment, including myself. Should you wish to talk, I am at your service. But if you need to escape for a while, follow this map._

_And bring your sword._

_— L_

The map was a quickly sketched guide to a location a few streets away, in the less fashionable part of Clere. What was Leliana playing at?

But she had at least given Cassandra a distraction, and right now that was what she needed most.

* * *

Leliana had given her the key to a burned out old building.

Some attempts had been made to fix it up: the gate had a new lock, and someone had swept the ashes off the main path. But it was clear that no one had lived there for a very long time. Cassandra could even see the tips of trees poking out in from gaps in the collapsed roof. The walls seemed solid enough, at least. Whatever else happened, she was not going to die from a pile of bricks collapsing on her head.

Cassandra opened the solid wood doors with a heavy push. Lucky, that they had not fallen to the blaze.

And then she saw it.

It must have been a warehouse, once. Dappled light filtered through trees to reveal a huge open space, divided only by delicate saplings and a few broken pieces of masonry. Flowers bloomed in the spots of sunlight, and the air smelled like a field in Spring. A little stream wound its way through a gap in the wall to escape again the same way, towards the river.

And in the middle of the room, looking smooth and new, was a combat dummy. The whole scene was like something out of a strange dream. Stepping closer, Cassandra saw a bench, hidden in shadow, but looking just as new as the dummy. She sat on it and looked at the key in her hands.

Has Leliana made this for her? In a _day_?

She sat and closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the flowing water and enjoying the flowers' scent.

And then she took out her sword.

* * *

Cassandra found Leliana in the rookery. She was talking to one of the ravens, a huge black mass of feathers holding to her gloved hand with long talons. The air was full of the sounds of caws and flapping wings, as birds flew in and out and ate from large wooden troughs of seed. Leliana seemed much more at home here than she had in the austere halls of the Arch-basilica. 

"Now, Baron Plucky," said Leliana, "I know you do not like Sister Claudine, but if you peck at her she will not replace your food." Leliana patted the raven's head gently. "And do not fight with your brother! You are a holy raven of Cybele, what sort of example are you setting for the starlings and mice?" It was exactly the way she had used to talk to her chickens. Leliana had told Cassandra she came to the rookery to escape her worries. Perhaps here, surrounded by her holy birds, was the only place she could be herself.

"I am glad to see that you are still as ridiculous with animals as ever," said Cassandra.

The moment Cassandra spoke Leliana's demeanour changed, her relaxed posture stiffened and her lips tightened. Then she saw that it was Cassandra, and she smiled. "Do not mind her, Baron Plucky," she said, "Lady Pentaghast is a heathen with no respect for your office."

Cassandra stepped closer. "Quite the reverse." She made a deep bow. "Good afternoon, Baron Plucky. I am honoured to make your acquaintance."

Baron Plucky cawed loudly, and flapped his wings angrily at Cassandra. She took a step back. 

"What did I tell you about being rude to guests?" scolded Leliana. She gave him a gentle pat on the head then sent him off. He wheeled up through the hole in the ceiling to fly off into the sky. 

"I came to thank you for your gift," said Cassandra. She stepped closer again, more self-conscious now than she had been with a large bird threatening her. "Perhaps I should not feel so much better for having had a chance to hit something, but I do. And while I was there I…found these." She held out the bouquet of purple flowers she'd picked and felt very aware of how small and pitiful it looked.

Leliana gasped. "Cybele's Passion!" She took the flowers and breathed in their scent. "You remembered. Thank you!"

"It is nothing. I wish you had not waited so long to tell me the truth, but…I appreciate that you meant well. And I am glad…if I had to find out, I am glad it was from you."

Leliana took her hands and squeezed them. "How do you feel?"

Cassandra laughed, briefly. "Terrible. But I will survive."


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a week, and Cassandra still couldn't decide if Leliana's magical "expert" was subtly making fun of her. Nobody was _this_ oblivious, surely.

"I'm sorry about the lamp," said Merrill, the tattoo curving along her forehead making her eyes look even more round and innocent. "I don't get many visitors so tall."

The implication being that people like Cassandra usually refused to visit the Vehn part of town. And to be honest, she normally did avoid such districts, it seemed rude to intrude on what little space the Vehn had to themselves. Cassandra didn't know what circumstances had led Merrill to leave her clan, but she still very much saw herself as Vehn, and saw descendants of the Chanter Empire like Cassandra as interlopers on her people's soil. In some ways Merrill's distrust was a comfort: Cassandra was still adjusting to the idea of being a mage, if Merrill had embraced her as a sister in magic it would have felt odd. 

Regardless, they needed somewhere private to meet, and the sisters at the Arch-basilica made disapproving noises whenever they saw Merrill's tattoos. So Cassandra squeezed herself into the tiny apartment and tried think of it as a learning experience about the living conditions of the poor.

"It's quite alright," said Cassandra, resisting the desire to rub at the sore spot on her forehead. "I did not knock my head too badly. What were you saying?"

"Well!" said Merrill. "I thought about what you said, about how we could adapt the Vigil but try to avoid the whole…um….overwriting people's minds thing." Merrill paused self-consciously for a moment. Cassandra reminded herself that there were far worse people who could know the truth about the Vigil. At least Merrill still treated her like a person, and her attempts at sympathy were well-intentioned, if a little awkward. "So. What about a chant without words? Have you ever heard a Dwerg goat-herding cry? It's a bit like…" Merrill took in a deep breath. "YooooobaaaaaEEEEEEoooooo…" She took another breath. "Like that! It might help people focus." 

Someone thumped on the ceiling above. "Keep it down! I have a baby trying to sleep!"

Merrill winced. "Sorry, Ariana!" she replied, in a loud whisper. She gestured towards the ceiling and Cassandra felt the tingle of a spell being cast, presumably some sort of invisible barrier against sound.

Oblivious or not, Merrill certainly knew her magic. Cassandra didn't like the stereotype that Vehn were more naturally magical, it had an ugly history. But there was no denying that they had a better _understanding_ of magic than just about anyone. And even for a former Vehn shaman, Merrill seemed especially well-informed. Her tiny apartment was crowded with bookshelves, and every shelf was filled with multiple layers of books. Not just Vehn and Cybelian texts: there were works here from the Chantry, from Rentis, even some labelled with the square runes of the Dwerga, and with other scripts Cassandra did not know how to classify. And magical theory was a _hobby_ for her, Merrill's real passion was for recording Vehn history, and teaching it. 

"That is an interesting idea," said Cassandra. "But such a chant lacks direction. As much as the Vigil is…flawed, it does offer the Tranquil mage a specific set of ideas to focus upon." She was almost able to talk about the Vigil without pain, now, as long as she focussed on trying to use it to help others. Perhaps that was a sign of just how broken she was, that her mind shied away from any emotional reaction which might interfere with her _usefulness_. But if her mind was broken, it was broken in a way she could use, and that would have to do.

"Hmmm…" said Merrill. "You're probably right, but I feel like I'm on the right track. How about we eat some of this nice tart you brought and have a think about it?"

"A very sensible idea," said Cassandra. On the whole, she found the cuisine of Clere a little strange, and often found herself missing the familiar comforts of home. But she did enjoy the availability of good almond tarts.

Merrill unselfconsciously waved her fingers over the tart in a sequence of crossing lines, caused it to neatly divide into slices. Cassandra wasn't sure if Merrill's constant use of magic was more passive aggression, or if this was simply how she lived, using magic for everything from lighting lamps to healing small scrapes and bruises. The strangest thing about it was how happy she seemed. Would Cassandra have been the same, if she had somehow been raised amongst the Vehn? She tried to imagine herself casting magic and worshipping pagan gods but the thought was too strange to hold in her head for long. And there was no point wasting time with might-have-beens.

After two slices of tart she decided it was time to stop. "Merrill…may I ask you a question?"

"Absolutely! Of course if I don't like it, I might decide not to answer."

"That is fair, I suppose. Is it true that you met Divine Victoria when she was acting as Sister Nightingale?"

Merrill leaned towards her and whispered theatrically. "You know, I'm fairly sure there's nobody from the Church hiding in my house. We can just call her Leliana." Then she gasped and put her hand on her mouth "Or…oh no! Does your… _thing_ mean you have to respect other religions as well? I'm sorry! That must be annoying."

"I just like to be _polite_ ," said Cassandra, frowning. 

Merrill looked at her dubiously. "That's very…nice of you." She might passive aggressively tease Cassandra, but she _despised_ the Church of Cybele. And understandably so: even the Chantry had not mistreated the Vehn so intensely. How Merrill and Leliana managed to not only work together, but be friends, was a mystery. "But yes, we met…oooh, eight years ago, it must be now. Long before she became Divine. She was much stabbier than most priests, but otherwise very nice! And she didn't try to stab _me_ , which was good."

"Was she very different to the way she is now?"

"Well, more stabby. But also less scary, somehow. She's still nice! Just, in a bit of a scary way." 

"Yes, I see," said Cassandra. "Thank you."

Just as Cassandra was trying to decide if it would be strange to ask another question, Merrill dropped her fork with a clatter.

"Music!" she said. "Music, without words! Magic works with vibrations, sort of, and so does music…"

"But surely that has the same problem as a wordless chant. It has no emotional focus."

"What about a really cheerful song?" said Merrill. "Like a jig. We could have them hum a jig and then maybe after that they'd always be jolly."

Cassandra shuddered. "Would you want to _always_ be jolly?"

"No, I suppose not," said Merrill. "Not _always_. Though it would be better than always being gloomy. Can you imagine if you happened to have a sad song stuck in your head when you were cured, and that was all you could think about forever afterwards?" 

Her expression was so serious that Cassandra couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

_The air was thick with smoke and the smelled of charred and rotten meat. Cassandra could hear in Renata Serrano’s voice that she knew...There was no going back from this._

_Renata Serrano spoke with the archaic syntax of a farmer. "I'll surrender," she said, dully. "Please, I'll stop, just…don't let them take my wife."_

_"I am listening," said Cassandra, to the mage. The mayor had mentioned rumours about the wife, but nothing concrete._

_Cassandra continued sneaking closer to the barn. Patches of scorched earth were a visible reminder of what happened to those who approached too quickly. This would be so much easier if she wasn't doing it alone. But Renata had already killed once, and Daniel was only twelve. Better for him to corral the villagers. She could hear the people of the village grumbling at the bottom of the hill, wanting to 'help', but the boy seemed to be doing a good job of keeping them calm._

_There was another voice from the barn, similar to Renata's but a little deeper. "Renata didn't mean to hurt anyone! They tried to take our farm away!"_

_"They were saying Febe has demon blood," said Renata. "But Febe's no mage, I swear." Her laugh became dry and bitter. "I am, but they didn't know that yet." She sighed. "Guess they do now."_

_It was possible that Renata and Febe were lying, but their story had a ring of truth to it. From the way people in the village talked about the Serranos, they'd always been unpopular. Febe had raised suspicions with her strange appearance, and though the Chant allowed for marriage between two women, such pairings were tolerated at best. Now that Renata had been revealed as a mage everyone was smug about having been right about the Serranos all along. Accusations of witchcraft were often used as an excuse to steal land, or settle old grudges. Cassandra suspected that it was sheer luck that the accusations had turned out to have any truth to them this time._

_"Who is_ ** _they_** _?" asked Cassandra. "Lord Molinero? Is that why you fought?" Cassandra was probably close enough now to incapacitate Renata, even without knowing her exact location. But she would rather bring her in peacefully._

_"Him and the others," said Febe. "Abel, Luis, the mayor. They ran off when… I'm sure Renata didn't mean to hurt him!"_

_"Yeah, I did," said Renata. "Didn't mean to kill him though. I'm sorry about that. Never had my magic blow up on me like that before." So she was losing control, and would have had to be brought in to the Seekers soon anyway. It was a pity someone had had to die first._

_Cassandra reached the barn door. She lowered her sword, in case they could see her, and spoke through a gap into the darkness beyond. "I don't want to hurt you, Renata," she said. "And I'll see what I can do for Febe. But I need you to surrender first."_

_There was a pause. "Are you going to kill her?" asked Febe._

_"No," said Cassandra. "Not if she surrenders."_

_"…All right."_

_The door slowly opened. Renata was a slight woman, roughly dressed, with an intense gaze. She held her hands in front of her in clear surrender. Cassandra kept her grip on her sword, but nodded in acknowledgement. Febe was taller than her wife, and her worried face peered over Renata's shoulder. From the villagers' descriptions she'd expected Febe to be strikingly deformed, but she had to look closely to even notice the problem: a twisted hand and shortened forearm on her right side. Looking past the two women Cassandra could see the charred form of Lord Molinero's corpse slumped in the corner. There was nothing more to be done for him. Time to worry about the living._

_As the three of them walked down the hill the voices of the villagers got louder and louder._ ** _Murderers! Witches! Kill her! Kill them both!_**

_"Seeker Pentaghast!" Daniel looked like he wanted to hug her, but restrained himself and just gave a relieved grin. She smiled back. He needed to stop worrying so much, she knew what she was doing. But it was nice to know someone cared._

_This moment of reunion was shattered when someone threw a rock at Renata. She winced, and a small line of blood trailed down her forehead. Cassandra drew her sword and stood in front of Renata, cowing the surrounding villagers with her eyes. No more rocks were thrown but the angry mutterings remained. The crowd wanted blood._

_"Renata Serrano has surrendered," said Cassandra, "and will be taken in for judgement. She is under my protection, and an attack on her will be considered an attack on the Seekers as a whole." That should shut them up. No one wanted to get on the wrong side of the Seekers. In such a cut and dried case she'd have been justified in making Renata Tranquil on the spot, but she didn't want to give them the satisfaction._

_"What of Febe?" The Mayor frowned. Likely worried that he wasn't going to get the land after all._

_"I have seen no evidence that Febe Serrano is a mage, or has any culpability in the death of Jon Molinero. The Seekers have no business with her."_

_There was more muttering at that._

_"They're going to kill me," muttered Febe. "Guess it was going to happen eventually."_

_"No they're not," said Renata, darkly. Her hands were tied, but Cassandra had seen mages overcome such bonds before. Cassandra reached back to touch Renata in warning, and felt heat coming off her in waves. Was she doing it on purpose, or had she lost control of her magic? In the end, it didn't matter. Cassandra subtly moved her sword hand in the familiar motions, and called on her gifts. She wasn't going to let this all end in bloodshed now. Renata grunted in surprise and discomfort as her magic was drawn away. But better that than to die in a shower of stones._

_Cassandra took a deep breath, stood straight, and smiled thinly at the mayor. Did he know how close he'd come to death? "Of course, Messere Serrano is welcome to travel with her wife as escort," said Cassandra, "If she wishes to be present for the trial." She turned to look at Febe. Her eyes were wide in surprise._

_"Uh, yeah," said Febe. "I'll be travelling with Renata."_

_"And I will escort her home afterwards," said Cassandra. She glared at the mayor. "I will expect her to have a home to return to." Febe would have to sell her farm, she would never be welcome here again, but at least she'd have some money to start a new life with._

_Thankfully the trip back was short. Cassandra didn't want to renege on her promise of a trial, but also didn't entirely trust Renata not to lose control of her magic again, or make a break for it. Her only insurance was Febe, squashed in front of Cassandra on her horse._

_The couple filled the hours with jokes and songs, distracting themselves from the journey's inevitable end. Daniel was slowly charmed, he stopped watching Renata like a snake waiting to strike and started joking back. Cassandra was charmed too, but never forgot what Renata was._

_"I'm going to miss you, love," said Febe, after the latest song came to its slightly inappropriate end. Her voice was rough with sorrow and affection._

_Though their marriage was doomed Cassandra couldn't help but be a little jealous of the Serranos. A part of her still yearned for the sort of romance you read about, for a passionate union with someone who would connect with her very soul. Her few attempts at finding such love had failed entirely, and trying to settle for more worldly kinds of love had just left her feeling hollow and more alone. At least Renata and Febe had had_ ** _something_** _, even if only for a little while._

_"Will I miss her, Seeker?" asked Renata. "Or will I be made to forget?"_

_"You will not forget anything," said Cassandra. Renata would remember she had a wife, after she was made Tranquil. She would simply no longer care._

_Daniel's face fell as he thought about what was going to happen to his new friends. Children were so simple in their affections. "Seeker Pentaghast," he said, slowly. "Can we…is there…"_

_Febe went very still._

_Cassandra frowned at Daniel. "We will fulfil our duty," she said, firmly. She felt Febe's body slump._

_Daniel forced his face to become as calm and serious as hers. "Yes, Seeker Pentaghast."_

_They rode on._

* * *

Leliana's daggers gleamed like silver in the bright afternoon sunlight. Cassandra had to step aside quickly to avoid being pinned. But the Divine was tiring, she might still be slim and muscular but years of fine food and long meetings had taken their toll, she was no longer the fearful Sister Nightingale of old.

As Leliana leaned forward to catch her breath Cassandra raised her sword to make the final blow. As she swung her arm downwards she heard a hissing sound, and Leliana's form in front of her began to grow dark. Soon the air was filled with smoke, Cassandra coughed and tried to wave it away, but lost sight of Leliana in her confusion. She swung her sword, blindly, and desperately tried to blink her eyes clear, but was not surprised to feel a pressure on her back, and a sharp pinprick of pain on her neck.

Leliana's voice was gentle in her ear. "Do you yield?" 

Cassandra took in a slow breath…and then firmly struck backwards with her elbow. She heard a satisfying "oof!" of pain from behind, and turned around quickly, shield up and sword ready. Leliana was grinning at her through what remained of the smoke.

Even though Leliana's weakness had been a ruse, Cassandra was still sure she could win this fight. She readied herself to swing again.

Suddenly Leliana's eyes went wide with shock, and she pointed behind Cassandra, shouting. "A rabbit! It's stealing the bread!"

Cassandra raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "Really? A rabbit?"

Leliana pouted, and crossed her arms. "If I am lying, consider the fight forfeit."

Cassandra held her stance for a moment longer, then lowered her sword and turned around. And there it was: a small brown rabbit, nibbling on part of their picnic.

"Shoo!" said Cassandra. Startled, the rabbit let go of the bread and hopped away into the bushes.

"Poor thing," said Leliana. She put her hand to the side of her mouth and spoke towards the bushes. "I'm sorry, little rabbit! But bread is no good for you!"

"I am surprised you didn't try to recruit it for your menagerie," said Cassandra, stepping towards the bread to survey the damage. Nothing that couldn't be fixed by cutting off a half-nibbled slice or two.

"I don't have room for any more rabbits," said Leliana, sadly. As if a garden full of them was not enough. "Shall we consider this a sign to stop, or do you wish to continue?"

Cassandra considered the question. Sparring was fun, but it had also built up her appetite. And lunch looked very appealing, a bounteous basket of foodstuffs waiting on a thick blanket, laid out with cushions on the soft grass of Cassandra's training ground. Even the remains of Leliana's smoke bomb formed glittering motes of dust in the light streaming through the gaps in the roof.

"A sign," she said. "From whichever deity we choose."

"Excellent," said Leliana. "It would be a pity for the cheese to spoil before we have a chance to eat it."

The picnic had been a joint effort. Leliana had access to blankets and baskets, and knew where to get all the best provisions. But Cassandra had insisted on organising and paying for everything, embarrassed to have been living on the generosity of the Church for so long. It wasn't as if she had anything better to spend her inheritance on. 

Leliana settled herself down on a cushion with a happy sigh. "Thank you for indulging me," she said. "To everyone else I am both terrifying and fragile, they're no fun to spar with." She delicately patted at her skin with a handkerchief, then picked a sprig of flowers from a nearby bush and put it over her ear. Even sweaty and bruised, dressed in leathers with her hair in a neat bun, she managed to look elegant and poised, and more like a princess than Cassandra ever had.

"It was my pleasure," said Cassandra. She had found a local establishment where she could train with miscellaneous fighters of Clere, but practicing with strangers lacked the joy of testing herself against a friend. And they _were_ friends, what she shared now with Leliana was different to their friendship during the war, but no less valuable. "We will have to do this again." Cassandra unbuckled the less comfortable parts of her armour, and went to wash her face in the nearby stream. Looking up, face dripping with water, she saw Leliana watching her. 

"You are magnificent," said Leliana. "It is a pity our match ended in a draw, even to be defeated by you would be sublime. To have such a wild and beautiful warrior pin me down and have her way with me…"

Cassandra laughed self-consciously. "I never know how to respond when you say such things."

"Does it bother you?" 

If only it did. She no longer had much reason to feel guilty for being friends with Leliana, but her other feelings…those were more troublesome. "Not if we both know it cannot lead anywhere."

Leliana raised an eyebrow. " _Do_ we know that?"

"Leliana! Of course we do!" 

Leliana frowned but did not argue. Cassandra sat down and busied herself with the food to avoid having to look at her.

The next time Cassandra looked up at Leliana, she was eating a strawberry. A little of the red juice ran down past her lips, and she wiped it up, licking her finger afterwards. Cassandra couldn't take her eyes off Leliana's mouth, so pink and soft. 

Leliana gave Cassandra a knowing smile. "Want a bite?" said Leliana. "It's very sweet." Cassandra looked away again, blushing.

Sometimes Cassandra wondered if the tension between them was all in her imagination, Leliana might flirt and tease but that didn't mean she had any serious interest in Cassandra. Surely the head of the Church of Cybele, celibate and pious, could have no real intentions towards a Chanter woman from Merigny. And even if she did, Cassandra could have no part in it. She had little experience with romance, but she knew what she wanted. And the kind of love Cassandra wanted was not something Leliana would ever be able to offer her.

Leliana stretched and yawned, then started slicing the bread, smiling to herself as she cut off the part that had been bitten by the rabbit. "How go things with Merrill? Or should I not ask?" She handed Cassandra some bread, and she piled it with meats and cheeses. Once again there was far too much food here for two people, but Cassandra now knew that such feasts were a rare treat for Leliana, and so felt less bad about indulging.

"There is nothing concrete to report as yet," said Cassandra, between bites, "but I think we are making progress." 

"I'm glad to hear it. I knew I was right not to involve the Church's 'experts' on magic, they would only be interested in finding new methods of control." 

Yes, it was hard to imagine Merrill trying to control anyone. "She is a…very unique woman. How in the world did you meet?" 

Leliana laughed. "She hasn't told you the story?"

"She tried," said Cassandra. "There was something about a pirate, a priest, and a dog? It was very confusing."

"Heehee, that makes it sound like the start of a bad joke!" Leliana leaned onto her elbows. "It was during the chaotic period after the war. Divine Justinia had sent me to Besalu to investigate whether certain members of the Church were inciting unrest there. I bumped into Merrill and her friends, who were investigating too, for their own reasons." 

Strange to think that Leliana had been in Merigny, and yet kept her distance. But it would have been stranger still to have met her at the time, as Sister Nightingale. "And Merrill's 'friends' included a pirate and a dog?"

"Yes! And a very charming gentleman who went on to become a useful trade contact. I saved their lives, and they saved mine, and we all became friends. After that I contacted Merrill from time to time when I needed advice on anything to do with magic. When I became Divine I asked her to move to Clere to be one of my advisors— I have other mage advisors of course, but Merrill is my favourite, especially since she can also advise me on the needs of the Vehn."

"She works for you officially? Do you— _surely_ you pay her the same as the others, why is she so poor?"

Leliana threw her hands into the air. "Because she gives all her money away! Whenever I talk to her about it she says something self-righteous about all the poor Vehn in the city needing help, and how if it's good enough for them then it's good enough for her."

Cassandra laughed, enjoying the mental image of Leliana being the on the receiving end of someone else's sanctimonious moralising for a change. "Anything but _self-righteousness_ ," she said, with heavy sarcasm. "How do you stand it?"

"Hmmph," said Leliana. "You're one to talk. How many of my priests have you gotten into arguments with now?"

Cassandra had a mouthful of food, and had to chew hurriedly to be able to reply. "What am I supposed to do, when they keep trying to convert me?" she sputtered. "And then they have the gall to misquote the Chant to try and prove their point! Half of them can barely remember their _own_ religious tenets." On the plus side, arguing with smugly wrong Cybelians had forced her to articulate her beliefs, and thus reaffirmed her certainty in them. This was a relief, learning the truth about the Vigil had made Cassandra question whether her faith was all an artificial construction. But the attempted conversions were still _incredibly_ annoying.

"I apologise on their behalf," said Leliana. "I always tell them to respect members of other faiths, but they never listen."

Cassandra waved away Leliana's apology. "They are mostly harmless. But if they insist on arguing with me, I will continue to argue back."

" _Mostly_ harmless? Are there any of my priests you would consider harmful?"

Cassandra made a sound of disgust. She did not have to think about her answer. "Sister Petrice. That woman!" Even her name felt like poison on Cassandra's tongue. "She does not even have the courage to be a bigot openly. She speaks only in insinuation and suggestion, but even I have noticed that her influence is increasing. If she had her way there would be holy war with no end, and anyone whose ancestors did not arrive with the Chanter Empire would be driven out from the Church. I know it is not my decision to make but— were I in your place, I would have her removed immediately, before her rot spreads any further." 

"I am sure you would," said Leliana. She smiled sharply, and lowered her voice to a whisper, though they were certain not to be overheard in this private place. It was disconcertingly attractive. "But I have something better in store for Petrice." 

Of course Leliana had not overlooked such a threat. "Do you intend to kill her?" The idea had some appeal. 

"Eventually," said Leliana, smugly. "I have been waiting for her to overextend herself. Until now she has been very careful to present herself as merely a humble sister, and her schemes as idle talk. But she is organising a meeting next week, she will gather all her supporters together and speak clearly of her plans. _That_ is when I will strike. Then I will have brought an end to her, and to all those who would listen to her message of hate."

Cassandra's ire turned cold, like she had been splashed with water. "You intend to kill _all_ of them?"

"Of course," said Leliana. "I will not stand for intolerance in my Church."

Cassandra had seen many young priests gathered around Petrice, too naive to recognise her clever words for the lies they were. "And so you murder those you consider intolerant? How is that…that makes no sense!"

"I do not murder _everyone_ I consider intolerant," said Leliana. "There would hardly be a soul left alive. But those who organise against me must be stopped. Many more would die if Petrice had her way."

"Perhaps," said Cassandra. Leliana had a way of making even her most outrageous statements sound reasonable. "But Leliana, there must be a line. How many innocents must be sacrificed before you are no longer a force for good in the world?"

Leliana scoffed. "You consider those who follow Petrice innocents?"

"Not entirely, no. But most of them are no real danger, merely misled. And what of the merchant in Rentis you eliminated for competing with the Church? The bard who lost her tongue? Can you honestly tell me they deserved their fate?" Cassandra had increasingly become Leliana's confidant. It was not always a comfortable role.

Leliana frowned. "You are making me regret being so candid with you."

"Confide in your priests, if you wish to be treated as infallible."

Leliana's frown became a cold glare. "I do not claim to be infallible, Cassandra," she said. "But I do what needs to be done. I cannot make decisions with my heart."

So she told herself. But decisions made without compassion led to horrors. Cassandra's voice grew flat. "I am sure that is what Commander Lambert told himself when he performed my Vigil."

Leliana blinked at her. "…That is surprisingly manipulative of you, Cassandra. I am impressed."

Cassandra flushed. "Leliana…" She sat forward and looked properly at her friend, at this woman who had become the centre of her life. Leliana's face was slightly pink: she pretended to be heartless, but had been shamed by Cassandra's criticism. "You were wrong before," said Cassandra, "When you said that the woman you were when we met was a lie. You _are_ that woman: you are kind, and good, and sweet. And you are more than that: driven, ruthless, brilliant. You have the potential for much that is great, and good." Leliana's face flushed again. "But what are you becoming? What kind of Divine hurts innocent people?

Leliana's voice grew sharp. "All of them! And who are you to speak of what the Divine should do?"

"Your friend."

Leliana laughed. She dusted off her hands, then leaned forward towards Cassandra. "My _friend_? Is that what I am to you?"

"Of course." They were friends, weren't they? Surely Leliana did not doubt that, now.

Leliana moved towards her, on hand and knee. There was a predatory glint in her eye. "You once told me, Cassandra, that we could not be friends if we were not honest with each other." She sat back on her ankles and put her hand on Cassandra's thigh. "So, I ask you, honestly: what are your feelings for me?"

Cassandra felt a wave of heat engulf her. All other thought was overcome by shame and desire. She scrabbled backwards on the blanket. "Why are you bringing this up now?" 

Leliana raised one eyebrow. "Why won't you answer?"

Cassandra looked away and tried to catch her breath. The conversation had moved so quickly! She felt entirely unbalanced, unable to think. She rubbed her face and willed her mind to be calm. "Because…"

She looked back at Leliana. She was looking calmly at Cassandra, blue eyes clear and unreadable. She was so beautiful, so merciless and so kind. It seared Cassandra to the bone. He voice came out as strangled cry. "Because it does not matter!" It was the closest she'd come to a confession, the closest she would ever let herself come to expressing the passion that strained within her. 

Leliana's expression became more melancholy. Cassandra's words hung in the air between them. "You cannot court me," said Cassandra, softly. "And I have no wish to be your secret shame, always in danger of destroying your Church, everything you have worked so hard for. I will not do that to either of us." 

"Oh," said Leliana. She moved closer again, slowly this time. Cassandra did not move away. Leliana put her hand on Cassandra's face. "Is that your only objection?"

Cassandra closed her eyes. Leliana was so close that Cassandra could smell the flowers in her hair, and feel the faint warmth of her breath. She thought about what it would be like to lean forward and touch her in return, to forget everything else except the two of them. "Yes," she said. "I know I can seem cold, or oblivious, but my heart…my heart yearns for things it cannot have." She opened her eyes. "But we cannot make decisions with our hearts."

* * *

_It was time to go._

_The Merigny army had finally clawed their way back past Metz, bringing the front nearly to Leliana's door. Cassandra was entirely healed, her people were nearby— she_ ** _had_** _to go._

_She checked her pack yet another time. She had everything she needed for her the short journey. Her sword was oiled and sharp. There were no excuses left._

_She heard Leliana coming back towards the house and hid her pack again. A pointless gesture, Leliana knew it was there, but let them both pretend a little longer._

_"Lady Featherington was generous today!" Leliana smiled and held up her basket triumphantly. "What do you think about having baked eggs for lunch?" Cassandra felt a twinge of guilt that she hadn't tried harder to learn to cook well enough to contribute to meals in the cottage. But it was too late now._

_"That sounds lovely," said Cassandra, trying to return her smile._

_Leliana put down her basket and grabbed the tinder box before crouching down in front of the oven. "There were caterpillars in the cabbages again. I know you don't like cabbages but— ow!"_

_"Leliana?" Cassandra rushed to her side. "Did you burn yourself? Put it in water!"_

_Leliana stood and held out her finger, which to Cassandra's horror was bright red with blood. "I cut myself! On the_ **_oven_** _." She laughed, but her voice was a high and brittle._

_"Wait there," said Cassandra. She quickly found Leliana's box of medical supplies, once such a major part of their routine, but now sitting unused on a shelf. Leliana watched her silently, blood slowly dripping down her hand._

_What was wrong with her? Leliana was usually so practical, but now she seemed passive and stupid. Cassandra put her hand over the sink and washed it with a ladle of water, then dried it. The box had several jars of medicine, and Cassandra stared at them, frozen with indecision. Maybe both of them were stupid today._

_"A small cut like this just needs a bandage," said Leliana, gently. As if she found Cassandra's panic amusing. Small! The jagged gash went down almost the full length of Leliana's finger, and was already welling again with blood._

_Cassandra wrapped it gently. She had some experience bandaging wounds, but it had been a while. "Is that too tight? Too loose?"_

_Leliana smiled. "It's perfect. I'm fine."_

_Cassandra held Leliana's hand in her own, feeling the rough callouses and hints of old scars. Without meaning to, she started rubbing her thumb across Leliana's palm. They were very close. Leliana looked up at her and Cassandra was overcome by how beautiful she was, how much she loved her. Leliana breathed and Cassandra thought of the lithe body under her dress, seen only in flashes during changing and baths. She wanted to see more, to touch, to hold Leliana in her arms and tell her how much she meant to her._

_Cassandra shouldn't be thinking of Leliana this way, this was all wrong. But she couldn't let go of her hand._

_Leliana stepped closer. "Will you miss me?" she asked softly._

_"Yes," said Cassandra, voice weak. She had so much more she wanted to say, but the words froze in her throat. Instead she raised Leliana's hand to her lips and kissed it. Leliana's cheeks went pink. Leliana brushed her hand against Cassandra's face, her fingers soft on Cassandra's lips, feeling their shape. She held up her finger so that the rough bandage only lightly brushed Cassandra's skin. With a step Cassandra could lean down and kiss her._

_Instead Cassandra pulled her into a tight embrace. Leliana let out a gentle sigh. Cassandra rested her face against Leliana's hair and breathed in. A familiar combination of herbs that she would never smell again._

_Leliana leaned up and kissed her on the cheek. Cassandra's skin felt warm. She closed her eyes and buried her fingers in Leliana's hair. "You have made me so happy."_

_"Yes," breathed Leliana, "I have never known such happiness." Her hand was a gentle pressure, pulling Cassandra's face down towards her. A moment more and they would cross a line that could not be uncrossed. Cassandra turned her head away. "Leliana— "_

_Leliana sighed and put her head on Cassandra's shoulder._

_"I don't feel like cooking anymore," she said. "I think I will visit Messere Legrand and see if she wants to swap the eggs for some ham."_

_"Mmm," said Cassandra, into her hair._

_"Unless you don't want to let me go," said Leliana._

_Cassandra realised she still had her arms around Leliana tightly. She released her, embarrassed._

_"I don't have to leave," said Leliana._

_"You should," said Cassandra, walking away and rubbing her arm self-consciously. It occurred to her that she'd also never see any of their neighbours again. She hadn't spoken to them much, and they'd hate her if they knew the truth, but it was still a melancholy thought. "Give Messere Legrand my regards."_

_"I'll be gone for a little while," said Leliana. Cassandra nodded. Leliana walked back to the kitchen bench and picked up her basket. "Good bye, then, Cassandra," she said, hand on the door._

_"Good bye," said Cassandra. She stood by the door and watched Leliana walk along the path to the Legrand farm until she had entirely vanished over the hill._

_When she was alone, Cassandra pulled her pack out from its hiding place and checked it one more time. And then, before she could change her mind again, she left._

* * *

Cassandra's heart beat wildly in her chest. She was in Leliana's inner chambers, alone.

It had happened so quickly, Leliana pulling her aside in a quiet moment and silently indicating that she should follow. They had trod quickly along the hallway leading to the Divine's private wing, Leliana always watching to see if they were being followed. Cassandra had visited the outer rooms of Leliana's chambers before, for late night chats or to be introduced to the latest litter of rabbits. But this was the first time she had been so far inside. Past the softly furnished sitting room for favoured guests. Past the courtyard, and the reading room, still filled with books belonging to the last Divine. Past anything that might be considered a part of Leliana's public face. 

As they travelled inwards, Cassandra had imagined how the conversation might go. Leliana loved to hint and imply, always leaving Cassandra room to pretend ignorance, and to doubt. But what if she made a concerted effort at seduction? Could Cassandra resist? _We mustn't_ said Cassandra, to the Leliana in her mind. _It would ruin you, and that would destroy me_. In another world, where they both were free, perhaps they could have been together. But Cassandra had too much respect for love to pursue it with anything but her whole self. 

The room Leliana brought her to was as austere as the main halls of the Arch-basilica, but instead of trying to intimidate and impress, it was simply plain. There was a desk, some chairs, and a cabinet stuffed with papers. All simply made, solid and functional, but not especially pretty. The only decorations were a few knickknacks on the mantelpiece: an icon of Cybele, a small gilded box, and some dried flowers. Cassandra looked at the final door, the one that likely lead to Leliana's bedroom. Was that room just as sparse? Would she soon have a chance to find out for herself?

Leliana closed the door into the room, and locked it. She hesitated before turning to Cassandra, as if nervous. As if in need of comfort. Cassandra yearned to embrace her.

Would it be so bad? Cassandra had always loved ballads of courtly love, and there was a certain romance to a passion kept secret. They both had so many secrets already. Cassandra's duty no longer called her away, and Leliana… 

She would ask Leliana if she could really live with herself, if she broke her oath of celibacy. Cassandra knew too well the weight of an oath, and the obligations of faith. Or…did the Church perhaps allow priests to pursue a chaste form of love? It would be frustrating, but if it was the only way…

Leliana looked up at Cassandra, her expression solemn. Her voice was low, though the walls were thick and she knew none but Cassandra could hear what she said. "Cassandra…" she said. "I was hoping to ask your advice."

Cassandra hadn't prepared herself for that. She barely managed to cough out a reply. "My advice? On what?" 

Had she misunderstood everything, her imagination creating a romantic confession from nothing more than a desire for privacy? 

Leliana frowned. That was her serious, _worried about Church business_ face. 

Cassandra was an _idiot_.

"You must promise to keep this a secret."

Small children had more sense Cassandra. _Rocks_ were less oblivious. Had she been misinterpreting things all along? Perhaps when Leliana had demanded to know Cassandra's feelings, it had been out of concern that Cassandra might be getting the wrong idea.

Cassandra took a breath and forced herself to become calm. Even now, the Chant offered her strength and guidance. _I shall weather the storm. I shall endure_. "Of course." Leliana had asked Cassandra here as a friend, to _help_ , and that is what she was going to do.

Leliana nodded. "Cassandra… you worked with the Mage Rebellion. Did you ever meet a mage called Anders?" 

Cassandra thought back to all those meetings, the many tense, serious faces. The name didn't ring a bell. "I don't believe so." 

"I've never met him either. But I could tell you exactly what he looks like, from his precise height to the colour of his eyes. And now I've found him." 

Cassandra knew what it meant when Leliana got that look in her eyes. "What did he do?"

"He wanted to send a message," said Leliana, hands tightly clasped in front of her. "The Circles are always cruel, but his was especially harsh. There was abuse, torture, death…and the Church did nothing. Less than nothing." Leliana frowned. She had not become Divine until the mage rebellion was mostly finished, but still felt responsible for the pain the Church had caused in the years leading up to it. "The Revered Mother valued appearances, and sought the Divine's favour. She covered up how bad things had become, and counselled those who protested to be patient. To stay silent. Anders decided that the only way to change things was with violence."

He had not been alone. The rebellions had been bloody. "Did he kill the Revered Mother?" Many members of the Church and Chantry had died during the rebellion, as the mages turned against those they saw as their jailers. 

"That was his intention," said Leliana. "He put a bomb in her office, intending to set it off at night, when she would be alone." Her voice grew soft. "But she had visitors that night, a long awaited delegation from Clere. And the summer had been _very_ dry." 

Many members of the Church had died during the rebellion. But Cassandra only knew of one time when they had died through fire. She didn't need to ask the name of the church. Silently, she took Leliana's hand. Leliana said nothing, but Cassandra liked to think her expression became a little less dark.

"How…why does everyone think it was an accident?" The Criquemur fire had been the centre of everyone's attention for months, even in Merigny. For the Divine to die so suddenly, along with several of the highest members of the Church…if there had been even the slightest suspicion of foul play, Cassandra would have heard about it by now. 

"I made sure of it," said Leliana, her voice hollow. "There had already been so much bloodshed. If people knew it was a mage that killed Divine Justinia, there would have been no end to it. Her legacy would have been destroyed." 

"Yes," said Cassandra. She normally abhorred deception, but Leliana was right, it would have been a massacre. "But…Leliana, for you to have to hide your own friend's murder! I am sorry such a task fell upon your shoulders." She had seen many times how much Divine Justinia's death weighed upon Leliana, even all these years later. Justinia had been like a mother to her. Cassandra could too easily imagine Leliana coldly forcing herself to stay strong and dispassionate as she methodically hid all evidence of her friend's murder. She moved closer to Leliana and put her hand on her shoulder, wanting to offer what comfort she could. 

"It wasn't very difficult," said Leliana, leaning slightly into Cassandra's touch. "By the time the fire was done, there was little left of the explosive device. If I hadn't read his confession it might have gone entirely unnoticed."

"His confession! How did you hide _that_?"

"He sent it to Justinia! _When you read this Revered Mother Elthina will be dead, and likely me with her_. But he was alive, and Justinia was dead." Her voice was bitter. "After the church burned, he ran. And he kept running, from city to city, always a step ahead of my agents."

But now she'd found him. Did she want Cassandra to help bring him in? She was certainly trained for it. Yet Cassandra hadn't used her Seeker gifts on an unwilling mage in years. To do so now that she knew her true nature would be…strange. 

"If there is anything I can do to help," said Cassandra, "you need only ask." 

Leliana sighed and closed her eyes. "Can you lend me your moral conviction?" she said. 

Leliana was unsure of her actions? This was unlike her. "I cannot offer you certainty," said Cassandra. "For I have none. But tell me what troubles you, and I will do whatever is is within my power to ease your burden."

Leliana leaned her head on Cassandra's shoulder. "Your being here eases my burden." Cassandra gently put her arm around her. Her heart ached with distant melancholy, and she ignored it. 

Leliana's hand twitched against Cassandra. "I want to murder him," she said. "I want to put in the knife myself, and watch the light leave his eyes. He killed my dearest friend, and he didn't even have the decency to do it on _purpose_." She gently shook her head. "Perhaps something is broken in me, to find such comfort in thoughts of violence."

"If you are broken, then what am I?" said Cassandra. "We have both been altered, turned into weapons and made bitter by pain. That does not stop us from doing what is right." 

"Perhaps," said Leliana. "But it does not make it easy." She gave a long, deep groan. "The reason I found him is that he's stopped running. He runs a free medical clinic, now, in Nurja. He's saved hundreds of lives, most of them too poor to have gotten treatment elsewhere. If I kill him, that will stop, and for what? Revenge? Can I justify that? Is that…what the Goddess would want from me?" She laughed gently. "I know you don't believe in her, dearest, but… sometimes I feel like you embody her will better than I ever could."

Cassandra closed her eyes, touched by Leliana's faith in her. She did not feel like she embodied anyone's will, not even her own. "I cannot speak for the Goddess," she said. "Or God, for that matter. My instincts say that any mage that has killed once will do so again, and must be made Tranquil. But my instincts are…suspect. By those rules, I should be Tranquil myself." She sighed in annoyance at herself. "My apologies, I am no good at being comforting."

"You are to me," said Leliana.

Unsure of what to say next, Cassandra rubbed Leliana's back. Leliana softened against her, warm and impossibly precious. "I cannot tell you what to do," said Cassandra. "It is possible that this man regrets his actions and seeks to atone. But that does not change what he did. Your anger is justified."

"I have so many things to be angry about," said Leliana. "Perhaps it is time to let this one go." She kissed Cassandra on the cheek. "Thank you."

Cassandra rested her forehead against Leliana's, glad to have been able to offer any comfort. "I am always here," she said.

* * *

_"How is the army treating you?"_

_Jessica grinned. "Pretty well, actually. They hazed me a little at first, but they learned pretty quick that a Seeker never breaks under pressure."_

_Cassandra laughed. "Indeed we do not. I am glad to hear that you are settling in well. How is the work?"_

_She shrugged. "Much the same. Tracking down mages gone rogue, cleaning up spells gone wrong. It's like when we helped out the army before, except now I just… stay. And I like my squad, they're good soldiers. It's not the same as being with the Seekers, but…it could be worse. How about you?"_

_Cassandra groaned. "They have turned me into a diplomat. But I think I am doing some good. Slowly. Despite the best efforts of the bureaucracy."_

_"You can do anything, Commander. Don't let them hear me say it, but the generals and majors have nothing on you."_

_"Away with you." Cassandra slapped Jessica lightly on the shoulder. She hadn't known her very well, before. They'd been billeted together a few times, as two of the few women in the Order, but their ages and personalities had been too different for them to become friends. They weren't really friends now. But there were so few Seekers left these days that it was hard not to feel a certain affectionate camaraderie._

_Cassandra took a drink of her beer. It was nice, just sitting together in a tavern. Perhaps she should organise some sort of group gathering, for all of them. Enough time had passed for it not to feel too painful to be reminded of what they had lost._

_Jessica's expression grew more serious, and she looked away, out the window. "Do you know," she said. "They're talking of letting mages into the army now. Not as property of the Chantry but just as…soldiers. As ordinary people."_

_In Cassandra's experience it was less a matter of talking, and more one of shouting. The war had shifted the Merignian government's attitudes towards mages from "dangerous liability" to "resource", and public opinion was increasingly against the forced conscription in Rentis. But the Chantry was still attached to the old system, where_ ** _they_** _got to control all the mages, and could take advantage of the Tranquil's free labour. The mages had their own opinions, of course, but they generally weren't invited to the kinds of meetings where these decisions took place._

_"I don't know if it will happen soon," said Cassandra. "There is much that must be decided, and the public is still cautious at the idea of letting mages live outside the Chantry. But I think, eventually, yes. The army will allow mages to join. Perhaps even to use their abilities at their own discretion."_

_Jessica looked at her hands. "Little late for that."_

_Cassandra put her hand on Jessica's shoulder. They were alone in the room, but she still lowered her voice. "Do you regret it?"_

_Jessica shook her head. "I love being a Seeker. I hated being…what I was. I don't know what I would have done if anyone else had found out." She smiled at Cassandra. "Thank you for having faith in me."_

_The horrible truth was that Cassandra_ **_hadn't_ ** _had faith in her. Seeing Jessica accidentally scorch her bedding had filled Cassandra with an intense horror. She'd been sure that letting a mage do the Vigil would end in disaster, maybe even death. She'd even tried talking about it with Commander Lambert, and_ **_he_ ** _was the one who'd believed in Jessica. He'd dismissed Cassandra's 'hypothetical' question and said that such slight signs of magical ability, manifesting so late, were nothing to worry about, that the Vigil would set things right. And he'd been correct._

_But Commander Lambert was dead, and Commander Lucius after him. It was up to Cassandra to look after the Seekers now._

_"Thank you for being worthy of that faith," said Cassandra._

* * *

Cassandra's breakfast came with pastries, flowers, and Leliana.

"You are playing the maid, now?" said Cassandra, irritably, embarrassed to be seen in her nightgown. Her hair was probably a mess. 

"Only for you," said Leliana, who looked fresh and perfect. "Eat!"

Leliana came into Cassandra's chambers. Cassandra felt a flush of embarrassment, and tried not to let it show. She busied herself by taking the breakfast tray and placing it on the table. 

"The flowers are lovely," she said. "Thank you. Are they to celebrate anything in particular?"

"Yes," said Leliana, grinning, "But it's a surprise! You will have to wait until this afternoon."

Cassandra took a bite of pastry. It was unwise to try and untangle Leliana's schemes on an empty stomach. "After the Decretum?"

Leliana's grin grew wider. 

" _During_ the Decretum?" Leliana giggled. Most Divines announced major changes to church doctrine once a decade, at most, but Leliana had already made three Decreta in as many years. The Arch-basilica had been buzzing with excitement since the announcement that Leliana would be making another Decretum today. The general opinion was that Leliana would be allowing men into the priesthood, but while this was something Cassandra approved of it didn't feel personally relevant enough to be Leliana's surprise. She narrowed her eyes at Leliana. "What exactly are you announcing?" 

Leliana winked and tapped her on the nose. "You will have to wait and see."

* * *

From a distance, the holy sisters of the Church of Cybele probably looked quite impressive, a sober order of women in black, quietly waiting on the word of their Divine. Cassandra was sure that the laity in the pews were in awe of their solemn piety. 

But as an honoured guest of the Church, Cassandra was seated close enough to hear all the whispered gossip.

"Five silvers says she lets mages be priests."

"Don't be daft. It's too soon for that. Most Holy's not stupid. I say it's going to be something about Dwerg."

"What's there to say about Dwerg? Just because your lover's Dwerga… " 

"Ha! Funny!" And then, in a much quieter whisper, "Ssh! Not here, you blockhead!"

A hush fell over the congregation as Leliana arrived. Everyone stood, hundreds of faces turned to watch in silence as Leliana and her acolytes slowly walked the long marble aisle to the chancel. Cybele meant nothing to Cassandra, but Leliana was transcendent, her pale robes glinting with silver and gold, the shining sun in the centre of Cassandra's universe. She looked so small as she stepped up to the pulpit, yet her presence filled the room. 

"My friends," she began, her voice high and clear. "It is time for change. For too long has the priesthood of Cybele…"

A voice from behind Cassandra triumphantly whispered "I knew it!"

"…been separated from our people. We are supposed to guide you, to act as an example of a life lived in service to the Goddess. Yet we are forced to remain ignorant, forbidden to experience one of the most significant parts of our parishioners' lives." Leliana's expression was etherial, as if she spoke not to any individual person, but to the universe. Then she looked down into the pews, and for a moment it seemed as if their eyes met, as if Cassandra was the only one in the room Leliana was talking to. "How can we be beacons of Cybele's love," she said, "When we are refused the opportunity to find love ourselves?"

A loud muttering swept through the cathedral. Cassandra couldn't tell if the reaction was positive or negative, but there was no doubting that it was intense. Cassandra's own feelings were beyond expression.

"Not everyone finds happiness through marriage," said Leliana, speaking once more to the air. "Those who wish to remain celibate are of course free to do so. But from this day on, priests of the Church of Cybele will be allowed to marry."

The muttering grew to a quiet roar. Leliana kept talking over the top of it, citing scripture and precedent, but Cassandra heard none of it. She barely noticed when the Decretum ended, and had to be prodded to stand up and leave.

* * *

It took several hours to find her. Such a major change in policy required discussion and explanation, and every time Cassandra asked to speak to Leliana it seemed that she was in a new meeting. But as day faded into night the stream of petitioners began to dwindle. Some time after midnight Cassandra was woken by a gentle touch on the shoulder. She blinked up into the face of Leliana's secretary.

"I'm sorry," he said, "Did you miss her? Most Holy left a little while ago. Perhaps she didn't see you."

Leliana had walked past her? Cassandra had chosen a chair right by the door to Leliana's office. Perhaps Leliana had been tired and wanted to sleep. She must have had a long day. It was sheer vanity to assume that today's announcement had anything to do with Cassandra. 

She stood up to leave, and something fell down, brushing against her ear as it fell, as if it had been balanced there.

Cassandra bent down to see. It was a small purple flower: Cybele's Passion.

* * *

She found Leliana in the rookery, watching the sleeping birds by candlelight.

Leliana smiled when Cassandra opened the trapdoor, but all she said was "Shh! You'll wake them!"

Cassandra carefully made her way over the dimly lit wooden floor, making sure to walk quietly.

Leliana was sitting on a long wooden bench by a table covered in offerings to the holy ravens. When she saw Cassandra approach she put her candle on the table and shifted over on the bench to make room. She smiled shyly at Cassandra and then looked away, eyes facing the night sky. 

Cassandra sat and watched her. The candlelight flickered on her pale skin, and made her copper hair glint like gold and silver. Was she waiting for Cassandra to say something? 

"I…" Cassandra's mind went blank. How to express her hopes without being presumptuous? "I am considering returning to Merigny soon." 

Leliana's breath hissed and she turned to look at Cassandra in shock. What had possessed Cassandra to say _that_ , of all things?

"Just for a little while," said Cassandra, quickly. "I want to tell the other Seekers— those who _were_ Seekers — what I have learned." As she started speaking of her plan, she was reminded of how good it made her feel, how certain she was that she was on the right path. "The Order cannot return to what it once was, but perhaps there can be a new Order, one founded on honesty, and truly dedicated to peace. Even if magic is no longer restricted, there will always be accidents, and those who wish to use their gifts for ill purpose. If we work _with_ mages, as their friends and allies, then I am sure many of them would choose to join our ranks." 

She was still unsure whether this new approach to magic would have space in it for Tranquility. The Vehn did not consider losing control of magic to be a permanent state— could it be that they were right? If they were, there was all the more need for Seekers to help control rampant magic without hurting the mage who created it.

"That sounds wonderful," said Leliana, though her expression was bittersweet. "If anyone can forge the Seekers into a force for good it is you."

"You have inspired me, Leliana," said Cassandra. "I want to tell them…I want to tell _everyone_ what you have achieved here. That I have seen mages living freely amongst the citizenry, able to use their magic without hurting others. I will speak to the Chantry, to the Queen— I will drag them back to Clere to see for themselves if I must!"

Leliana's worried expression became hopeful. "You will return then?"

"When I can," said Cassandra. "If that…if that is what you wish."

Leliana looked at Cassandra. She reached for her hand in the dark, and looked down at their interlaced fingers. "I miss you every moment we are apart." 

"I…" Cassandra did not consider herself a coward, but she was terrified, so afraid to misinterpret, to look like a fool. But some risks were worth taking. She took Leliana's other hand, and drew closer. "I will always return to you," she said. "I can think of no greater honour than to be by your side."

Leliana smiled. It was a small, gentle smile, vulnerable and honest.

"Cassandra," said Leliana. "I…I am a little out of practice at courtship. But would you…"

Cassandra kissed her. 

She hadn't intended to. She'd opened her mouth to say something, she wasn't sure what, but then Leliana was there, so close, and there was no reason any more to pretend. Leliana's lips were soft, and a little cold. They opened in surprise and Cassandra kissed her again. Somehow her hands were free and she was pulling Leliana towards her. Cassandra clutched at her tightly, feeling the warmth of her body through her thick robes. She buried her face into Leliana's shoulder, kissing her neck and breathing in her scent. Leliana made a small gasp and Cassandra came back to herself. 

"I am sorry," she said, heart beating so fast she thought it would burst. "I should not have…"

Leliana ran her fingers over Cassandra's hair, her face, her back. "Cassandra," she breathed. " _Oh._ Yes, you should." She gently touched her lips to Cassandra's skin, covering her in tiny kisses. Then she wrapped her arms around Cassandra tightly and squeezed, making Cassandra give out a choked laugh. 

Cassandra waited for her heart to slow down enough for her to think, though thought was nigh impossible with Leliana held so closely in her arms. "I…I would like you to court me," she said, head on Leliana's shoulder, glad that her face was hidden. "But are you certain? I am a Chanter. And a woman! Even if you are allowed a…a partner, I am not what people would expect." The thought of being Leliana's _wife_ was too huge an idea to consider just yet.

"Good!" said Leliana. "Let them be surprised. I meant what I said today. What sort of example would I be setting if I let mere _convention_ keep me from love?"

"Love…" repeated Cassandra, barely able to believe it. Her heart overflowed with unexpected joy.

Leliana turned her head away and tried to hide her face in Cassandra's shoulder. "Mmm," she said, her voice muffled. "Fine, yes! I am quite fond of you. I am sorry if this comes as a shock."

There were no words for what Cassandra felt for Leliana. Instead she kissed her again, and again, until the ravens flew up into the sky and the sun rose in a new dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes on the worldbuilding (no plot spoilers, but probably boring for most people):
> 
> This is an alternate world where all the sentient races are human, and while magic exists there's no Fade, darkspawn, demons or spirits. I wanted to explore a situation where there's no supernatural Good or Evil, and no different sentient species, but just people being people. It never comes up in the story but I have been thinking of it as an alternate reality accidentally created by Solas or mages from Tevinter as a result of time travel and/or Fade shenanigans. I was going to say Solas would be upset about inadvertently creating a world without elves, but I never describe anyone's ears, maybe they're _all_ elves ;)
> 
> The one thing I'd have liked to have explored but didn't is whether there's any societies in this world where mages and non-mages are in conflict but it's not a simple case of non mages having all the power and mages none. I thought about it, but would want to do something more nuanced than Bioware's stark dichotomy of Mages As Powerless Chattel vs The Evil Empire of Oppressive Mages, and couldn't come up with anything I liked in time. 
> 
> History:  
> Until around a thousand years ago, the only people living in this part of the world were the Vehn (elf analogues, living much like the Dalish and worshipping their own Pantheon) and the Dwerg (dwarf analogues, living in the mountains and worshipping their ancestors). Both groups tend to be quite short but are otherwise standard humans ~~or elves??~~. Both have mages, the Vehn deal with them the same way the Dalish elves do, but the Dwerg straight up murder them, and act like magic is a problem other people have.
> 
> Then the ~~Fire Nation~~ Chanter Empire arrived, full of taller people with a desire for conquest. The Empire was a sort of mix of Tevinter, the Dragon Age Chantry and the Roman Empire (both before and after Christianisation). Chanters worship a non-binary god called Sadusel, and their holy book is the Chant. The organised religion is called the Chantry. They have no Andraste/Christ like figure, though they have various saints. The Chant is very gender neutral but Chanter culture tends to be sexist anyway. 
> 
> The Chanter Empire invaded most of the land and oppressed the Vehn. They had trouble getting into the mountains so formed an uneasy peace with the Dwerg. Some remote areas are still under Vehn control, but there's also plenty of ethnically and/or culturally Vehn people living in Chantry lands, either somewhat assimilated or in nomadic clans. There's also Dwerg immigrants, and Dwerg mage refugees, as well as their descendents. Both groups experience a fair amount of ethnic prejudice, and the Chantry isn't great at religious freedom.
> 
> The Chant itself doesn't say much about magic, but the Chantry teaches that magic is a corruption of the blood that leads inevitably to the mage becoming entirely corrupted and losing control. They think the best thing for a mage to do is to recite the Chant, live a life of quiet piety under the watchful eye of the Chantry, and try to repress their magic. The Rite of Tranquility was developed as a way of dealing with mages who were considered too corrupt.
> 
> Around four hundred years ago the Empire split into three countries: Trion to the North, Merigny to the South, and Rentis to the East. There's also some Southern Isles. During this period the Seekers were formed in Merigny as an international organisation dedicated to finding and controlling mages. There are no Templars.
> 
> Around two hundred years ago the Andraste-like prophet Cybele appeared in the Trion capital Clere and declared herself a Goddess. Cybele formed an army and a Cybelian Church whose influence spread despite the best efforts of the Chantry. Trion became controlled by the Cybelian Church and renamed to Cybelion. Cybelians aren't quite as anti-magic as the Chantry, and send their mages into towers that work a lot like the towers in Thedas. Thy don't have anything like Templars or Seekers, but magic isn't as dangerous in a world without demons or blood magic, so they get by with regular soldiers. There is almost no separation of Church and State, and anyone who isn't Cybelian has historically had a bad time. All Cybelian priests are women. Structurally it's a bit like Catholicism, with a single central authority. The leader of the Cybelian Church is called the Divine, and lives in the Archbasilica in Clere. 
> 
> Rentis is still a Chanter country, but recruits some mages into the army. I'm not sure what theological justification they have for this but I'm sure they have one :)
> 
> Ten years ago Cybelion was at war with Merigny. Rentis largely stayed out of it. It got nasty.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want a sort-of prequel to this fic, set during Leliana and Cassandra's time in the cottage, go read Loving The Moon. It's very sweet and the author can actually write sex scenes ;)
> 
> If you've already read Loving The Moon and are wondering why I chose to flip which religion was older...I got it mixed up in my head, and by the time I realised my mistake I was in too deep to flip them back, oops.


End file.
